Falling Fast A
by StandUpToCancer
Summary: Pressure can come from anywhere; a famouse relative, a dead parent, a secret popstar life, or a new step mother. No one wants to talk, and Miley starts to fall. Will anyone notice? Will they be able to catch her before it's too late? Minor cursing. R
1. Trailer

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast **

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Trailer**

_Better than the video on YouTube._

**Pressure can come from anywhere.**

Miley sits in bed room alone, crying.

**A famous relative.**

A clip of Robbie Ray's music video for "Achy Breaky Heart"

**A dead parent.**

Susannah Stewart hugs her young daughter close.

Young Miley, tearful and holding pretty pink flowers at her mother's funeral.

**A secret popstar life.**

Miley carefully places the Hannah wig on her head, adjusts in the mirror, and grabs her microphone before running on stage to a cheering crowd.

**A new step mother.**

Heather, in a white bridal gown kisses Miley's father. In the background, Miley puts on a falsely cheerful face as Lily squeals in joy.

**When no one wants to listen, Miley falls to the one person who'll let her talk.**

Miley sits on a large rock a couple feet into the ocean. Next to her, is a mysterious-looking boy who seems slightly older, and is listening to every word she says.

**Owen Oken. But he isn't a good guy, like Oliver.**

Owen, the mysterious boy, dances with Miley at a crowded high-school party

**When Miley starts to fall, will anyone notice?**

Miley is crying into her cell phone, sitting at the top of a staircase. She looks slightly haggard and drunk. Below her, a party is visible.

**And if they do, will it be too late?**

A news reporter talks about how Hannah Montana has gone bad.

**Starring…**

… **Miley Cyrus as Miley Stewart/Hannah Montana**

Miley walks barefoot on the edge of a beach, the wind whipping her hair into her face.

… **Emily Osment as Lily Truscott**

Lily screams angrily at Miley, tears burning in her eyes.

… **Mitchel Musso as Oliver Oken**

Oliver dances with Lily, holding her carefully, a look of sheer joy on his face.

… **Jason Earles as Jackson Stewart**

Jackson tries, and fails to flip a water bottle behind the counter at Rico's.

… **Brooke Shields as Susannah Stewart**

Miley holds a picture of her mother in her hands and cries.

… **Billy Ray Cyrus as Robbie Ray Stewart**

Robbie Ray looks miserable, head in his hands and Miley sitting across from him, looking embarrassed.

… **Heather Locklear as Heather Truscott**

Heather helping hold up a tired-looking Miley as they walk across a lawn in the dark.

… **Jared Padelecki as Owen Oken**

Owen twirls Miley in an old-timey diner.

**It just has to work out, doesn't it?**

**Author's Note**

This story will be updated as much as once a week, as little as once every two weeks. If I neglect this, feel free to pm or comment about it. I've been working on this since late February, so please review my hard work!


	2. The Day it All Began

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #1**

_The Day it All Began_

Hi. My name is Miley, and this is my story. But for you to fully understand, I'm going to have to tell you who I was before any of this even started. Back to when my life was a fairy tale.

I was born Emily Ramona Stewart, younger sister of Jackson Rodney Stewart, and the daughter of Robby Ray and Susannah Stewart. Yes, Robby Ray of "Achy Breaky Heart" fame is my father, and my godmother is Dolly Parton. Their fame does play a large part in my life. It gave me my first taste of the spotlight, and began the spark that powered my own career. Maybe, if it hadn't been for them I wouldn't have fallen so hard, so fast. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

When I was younger we'd lived in a huge apartment in Nashville, but by the time I turned five and dad's fame was receding, we moved. Our new house was near the center of a small, eccentric town. (Think Stars Hollow on _Gilmore Girls_, but with more farming.) It was a great location – within walking distance of schools, playgrounds, and the town's only grocery store. Even better, my mother's large over-crazy and super-tight farm family lived just on the outskirts, a bike ride away. While I started school and made friends, my parents opened a small instrument store & lessons business. I spent a lot of those happy years hanging around the shop or helping out on my cousin's farm. I began cheerleading and joined a local team. I was pretty, popular, and bright. I even got the nickname "Miley" from how much I smiled. My life was a fairy tale, and I didn't know how good I had it.

In March of 2004 my mother – my strong, brave, caring mother – was diagnosed with cancer. Those next two years of chemo were so hard. She put up a great fight, and we never gave up hope. I never truly considered what the outcome could be, because my mother couldn't die. No. That wasn't possible. At least, that's what I thought. She did die, the week before my sixth grade graduation. She never got to see me leave the little elementary school, or to see Jackson enter high school. She was there for my first steps, my first smile, my first day of school; but she'd never help me with my first period (that ended up falling to Aunt Dolly just two weeks later) or my first boyfriend.

That summer was the first I didn't spend at summer camp. We spent the rest of June in deep mourning. We held the funeral and waded through the piles of paper work that month. Dad spent most of his time locked in his study. Jackson spent as much time as he could out of the house. No one will ever know what he was doing then, and no one will ever ask. Some things are better left unsaid. Unable to get my head into cheerleading and frivolous gossip, I channeled my own pain into song.

By July our family was worried. We – my father and I – had completely withdrawn from normal society. We didn't go by the farm and ride the horses. The shop had started to gather a thick layer of dust my mother would have been ashamed of. Jackson had gotten into a minor scuffle with the law, and no one was bothering to punish him. Our family had fallen apart over something we'd had two years to prepare for. But I guess you can never truly prepare for the death of a loved one.

Then, one day mid-July, dad called a family meeting. He announced that we were moving to sunny ole' Malibu, California. I don't know why I wasn't angry. I guess at that point I was too detached from my friends to care. Jackson, however, was furious. He had withdrawn from the family, rather than society. Unlike dad and me, he lost something in the move.

Despite his anger, we moved. Our new house was larger, despite our decreased need for space. It was, however, beautiful. The entire first floor was very open, from the large kitchen/dining room/living room to the walls made almost entirely of windows. Pure sunlight streamed in to warm and light the front room. The property was beachfront, and had several spacious decks to make use of that. The location was great too. It was a short walk to a public beach, the local haunt of many teens and tweens. Looking at the house, I knew instantly why my dad had chosen it. Mom would have loved it.

I spent the rest of the summer helping dad unpack the house and getting acquainted with my surroundings. Through that, our family slowly brought itself back together. We spent so much time with each other, setting up room after room, choosing and building new furniture and appliances; that we had to talk. And boy, did we talk. We talked about mom, Malibu, mom, music, mom, Nashville, and mom. But mainly mom. All the good times, and all the bad ones. All the memories that made you feel bad because you were laughing and smiling when you thought of them. But it was like therapy for us. The last thing we did was to create our special area for her. It was a small room that was supposed to be used as a study. Together, we painted the walls her favorite colors and designed it in her favorite style. Its shelves were filled with pictures, her favorite books and CDs, her iPod full of music (always charged and ready to play), our collections of home videos, childhood projects we'd given her, and things like that. It was half in memory of mom, half the life we lived before Malibu. And as we closed the door on the finished room, I finally felt that we could truly get passed this. It wouldn't ruin our lives, it would shape who we are, for better or worse. Or worse.

When we started school that year both Jackson and I joined a first-year class in our respective schools, so the transition was easier. Sure, most people already new a couple others, but the cliques were yet to form, the barriers yet to be built. At first, I expected to be swallowed up into the popular crowd. I was a cheerleader, I had been popular. "Had been" and "was" appeared to be the key phrases. My southern accent was declared "funny" and "hick-ish", and I was outcasted. On the fringes, I quickly found myself befriending a hyper skate-boarding blonde named Lily and her trusty sidekick/best friend Oliver Oken. The two weren't exactly the most popular of creatures, but at least they weren't the shallow Barbie's that rule any school. I'd officially had enough of that type.

Although I made friends and had laughs, my life was in no way a parallel of my Tennessee one. There I had been looked up to and friends with all, here everyone knew my name, but that wasn't always a good thing. I was quieter, less outgoing and psychotic than before. I let Lily be the psychotic one, since she was so much better at it. But this made dad worry. Was I unhappy? Was something wrong? He suggested that I see a therapist, or took singing lessons again. He tried to get me to join a cheer team or take dance classes, but I was having none of it. I didn't want my life here to mirror my Nashville one. I wanted a new one, with new interests.

But, of course, dads don't just butt out. Instead, he gave me the best present a girl could get. He pulled a couple of strings with his old recording company and brought me into the studio to record a CD of the better songs I'd written, as a birthday present. I was thrilled, just over-the-moon happy. This was something I'd been dreaming of since I was tiny, a wish come true. But that's all I thought it was going to be. But no, someone at the company had apparently loved my CD and wanted to record one to sell. He thought I could actually have a music career! By the dawn of second semester I had created the alter-ego of Hannah Montana, and recorded my first CD. It debuted somewhat low, but quickly rose up the charts. By the time I entered eighth grade, Hannah had rocketed to stardom, and it was hard to keep the secret between concerts and CD signings. Amidst all of this success, who would know that tragedy would strike?

My dad started to date Lily's divorced mother, Heather Truscott. Sure, I like Lily, and her mom's cool; but I didn't want a new mother! I'd rather have my old one! And as that isn't possible, I'd just like to have kept it at Jackson, daddy, and me. But no.

And so our real story begins, at the end of my summer-before-ninth-grade. My last summer as an only daughter, on the day everything began to go wrong.

**FALLING FAST**

"We're officially sisters!" Lily sang, practically strangling me with hug. This might have been cause for alarm, except that it was about the tenth time she'd done it today.

"Yeah." I said, forcing a smile to my face. "Sisters."

"Come on be happy!" she screamed, loopy off too many sodas and line dances.

"I am happy!" I exclaimed, putting on my best face. "See? Happy!"

"You don't look happy." She stated, giving me puppy dog eyes.

"Aww, Lils, I swear I am, it's just that you've said it, like, a million and one times already. It's a little excessive."

"What's so wrong with bein' excited?" she asked, hands on hips.

"Nothing." I forced a laugh, hoping to get her off my back. I wasn't in the party mood. Fortunately, a slow song came on and she ran to drag Oliver onto the dance floor. I breathed a sigh of relief and escaped to the outer edges of the party, hoping to escape talk and dance. I found myself along the shore. Stepping out of my strappy sandals, I walked in the moving tide, loving the feel of cool water and warming sun.

Why I wasn't in the party mood, I wasn't quite sure. Lily's mom was great. She was a genius decorator (her chosen profession) and a caring person. She'd already helped me through a rough break up, and gave great relationship advice. So she was a little uptight, I could get used to that. It was just… it felt like no one cared. It seemed like that, in just two years, we'd completely forgotten our southern roots, and, more importantly, mom. Jackson didn't really care about the marriage either way. He'd be out of the house in two years, so it didn't affect him much. Me, however, it did effect. I gave up half my room to Lily, and "got" to see her every day. Don't get me wrong, she's my best bud in the world, but a girl needs some space, and she doesn't really seem to get that.

"Hey bud." I spun around to see dad behind me, his own shoes and socks abandoned a couple feet back, his pants folded to his knees. "Why're you out here on your own?"

"Just not in the party mood." I answered vaguely, slowing down so that we could stand side-by-side.

"Are you sure it isn't something more?" I shook my head. "You've seemed a little distant lately."

"Teenagerness."

"Sure, sure." He chuckled. We walked in silence as I thought.

"And…I've been missing mom."

"Oh." He sighed, placing his arm around me. "And what have you been thinking?"

"That we don't talk about her enough."

"We don't?"

"This is the first time I've talked about her in months, dad." I reminded him. "It's been a long time. And I get the feeling that no one really cares anymore."

"Sure we care, Miles. But life goes on, and we need to find some way to go along with it."

"But why can't we go along some other way?"

"Miley, Miley." He sighed, "I'll always love your momma, and you know that. But I also love Heather. She's an amazing woman, and I want to have her in my life too. Don't you think your momma would've wanted us to be happy, and keep goin' along with life? Don't you think that she would've wanted you and Jackson to have a mother-figure in your lives?"

"Yea." I conceded. "She was pretty smart that way."

"So, do you think you have enough room in your heart to let in Heather?"

"That's not the problem dad!" I wanted to scream, but I tried to keep my voice level. "The problem is if we're ever going to talk about mom again."

"Whenever you want to talk," he offered, "I'm here. My door is always open, and I'd be happy to talk to you, about anything."

"Anything?" I tested mischievously.

"Anything."

"So, if we can talk about anything, then we can talk about how I'm still so flat chested! I mean come on, I've already gotten my stinkin' period for more than two years now!"

"Okay, there are some things I'd rather you discussed with your friends, or Heather." He laughed, smiling. "But if you really want to talk to me about it." He gave my shoulders a squeeze. "I'm always here, okay?"

"Okay, dad." I answered.

"Come on back to the party when you're ready, and don't wander to far." He warned, starting to walk back to his socks. I called after him.

"I won't!"

I turned to face forwards again. Up in front of me was one of my favorite places. There was a large rock that jutted out of the water, just high enough that it took a little jump to sit on. I'd perched on it for many a song writing session in the past. I'd never seen someone else on it until now.

I'd never seen him before, but I knew instantly who it was. He had dark hair, slightly too long for a boy. His large long-eye-lashed eyes were dark and mysterious in their shade. He was a little more mature looking, but the family resemblance was striking. In front of me was Owen Orion Oken. (Yes they are big on "the triple O", Oliver's middle name is Oscar.) He was one-and-a-half years older and two inches taller than Ollie, but he didn't look it. He was the slightly wilder child, a simple gold earring in his right ear and a certain bad-boy look just radiating from him.

"Owen, right?" I asked, wading to the rock.

"Right." He answered, "Miley?"

"Yeah." I bent, placing my arms on the rock behind me. But before I could jump myself up, I felt two steady hands take my waist. Owen hoisted me up next to him. I sat there, flustered for a moment. "Thanks."

"Not a problem." He answered, "so what's a sweet girl like you doin' in these here parts?" he asked in a fake, too-thick accent.

"Just waitin' for a kind fella ter help me out." I answered, exaggerating my own accent.

"With what?" back to west coast normalcy.

"Oh, nothing." I said, hoping to sound mysterious and sexy, because that's how he sounded.

"Well I can't help ya if you don't tell me." he said.

"That's fine with me." I answered.

"So if there's nothing you want to say, can we do something else?" he asked. Before I could reply his hand was on my chin, tilting my face up. My lips met his in a light kiss.

What? A kiss? I'd met this guy two minutes before! This cute, funny guy, and we were already kissing. Wow.

**Author's Note**

I hope you enjoyed this opening chapter. I'm going to try to take this slowly (the relationship, not the updating) but it all happens very quickly, so don't be mad if it goes too fast! Please review! And tell me, who do you think Lily should date? What about Miley? Obviously, it's Miley X OC right now, but all that could change, in the blink of an eye.

For pictures of characters, visit my profile.

**My Inspiration (Warning: The plot is divulged in the following paragraph. Read with caution.)**

This story is kind of "inspired" by Jamie Lynn Spears. I'd just finished reading a Hannah fic, when I read an article about how her mother wouldn't let her marry Casey and was "hiding" her. I started thinking, what if that happened to Miley? Ooops, just gave away the storyline. Well, there's a bit more to mine. So read on, please! The characters are NOT based on anyone in that whole crisis, but some of their feelings are. I support Jamie Lynn because it's got to be hard enough to be in her position, but to have thousands of people who've never even met you calling you names? That's gotta be hard. Anyone who comments saying something mean about her is in DEEP trouble, kay?

**Plot is no longer being divulged. Thank you for your patience.**

I won 3rd place in my science fair category tonight! (Physics) Woot!


	3. It's Her Sisterly Duty

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #2**

_It's Her Sisterly Duty_

"_So if there's nothing you want to say, can we do something else?" he asked. Before I could reply his hand was on my chin, tilting my face up. My lips met his in a light kiss._

_What? A kiss? I'd met this guy two minutes before! This cute, funny guy, and we were already kissing. Wow._

**FALLING FAST**

"Wow." I gasped as we broke apart. "Just…wow."

"Is 'wow' good or bad?" Owen asked quizzically.

"Wow is…wow. Amazing. Spectacular. Fireworks ablazin'." I couldn't help but laugh at my own explanation, let alone the confused, contemplating expression on Owen's face. "Wow is very good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

We fell into silence. It wasn't exactly awkward, but we needed a new topic. I laid down on the sloping rock and watched the clouds above while my ears filled with the sound of lapping waves. As I lay there, taking in the peace, I began to think of mom again. She probably wouldn't have liked it here in Malibu. It wasn't the small, in-your-face personal of our hometown. She used to say that the sounds of cities would keep her up at night; here it would be the waves.

"What are you thinking about?" Owen asked, leaning back on his elbows beside me.

"My mom," I said it automatically, not even thinking about the words escaping my lips. Normally it took effort to say those simple three letters to anyone, let alone a boy I'd just met; a boy that had just kissed me.

"Tell me about her." It wasn't an order, it was a request. "I like listening to your voice." Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I was glad that he wasn't looking at me.

"Well…" What to say? What to tell? How much could I take, before the dam broke? "First off, she was beautiful. People used to tell me that I look just like her, but I don't think so." I paused, but he didn't disagree. Surprisingly, that was a comfort, because he wasn't trying to comfort me. "Her hair was darker then mine, and a whole other kind of curly. But I do have her eyes and skin, luckily for me."

"Tell me more." He prompted. "What was her job? How did she meet your father?"

"She used to be a waitress, to support herself through college. See, she came from a big family, and as one of the youngest, there really wasn't any money for her to go to college. Plus, they expected her to work on the farm anyways. But that wasn't what she wanted to do, so she went to college and got a job. Well, one day my dad was on tour and he decided to stop at the diner. They looked into each other's eyes, and as they say, the rest was history. She finished up college and he finished up the tour while writing to one another. It turned out she was pregnant with my brother when he left, so he returned for her graduation. They had Jackson a couple weeks later, and got married a month or so after that. He rose to fame, and I was born three years later." I shrugged. "Eventually, once the fame had died down, they opened a small music shop together."

"Very romantic."

"Yeah, I guess it was."

"Miley!" the loud voice broke through our conversation like a dagger, sharp and jagged. I immediately sat up, looking for the criminal who'd disrupted us. Lily was standing on the sand about ten feet away, her blonde hair floating behind her in the wind that was also blowing up her maid of honor's dress. She pressed down the offending material and yelled again. "Miley!" I inched to the edge of the rock and jumped in, the edges of my own dress sagging into the water. I lifted the fabric and waded towards her.

"What?" the wind had picked up, and my hair was blowing around like crazy.

"Dad's worried about where you are. He asked me to come find you." She turned to talk to someone behind me. Owen placed a hand on my shoulder, almost protectively. "What are you doing with her?" she asked accusingly. See, Lily doesn't really like Owen. Something about nearly drowning, I don't really remember the story, but it was a long time ago, when she'd been five and he was seven.

"Just talking." He said airily. "That's not a crime now, is it?"

"No I guess not." She grabbed my hand roughly, "Come on sis, we should be getting back." I let her drag me to the party, knowing that Owen was walking back to the rock. I wanted more than anything to be going back with him, but I let Lily lead me back. "Why were you talking to him?" she asked, her tone noticeably cold.

"I don't know." I answered. "He was there."

"You shouldn't have to talk to him." The way she said 'him' made it seem like he was a contagious disease that she was afraid of contracting.

"Look, he was being nice!" I defended. "What happened between you two was a long time ago, and he probably doesn't remember it anymore. I don't know why you hold it against him!"

"He tried to drown me, Miley! I can't just forget that!" we were silent for a minute. "Jeez, what's with you today? First you're not happy that our parents are finally married, now you're hanging out with Owen? It's like I don't know you at all!"

"Well maybe you don't!" I responded.

"What does that mean?"

"Maybe you don't know everything about me, Lily. Actually, there's a lot about me you don't know. Or don't notice."

"What didn't I notice?" she asked. We'd stopped walking by then. She stood in front of me, arms crossed and seething mad. As I did my best to avoid her angry eyes, I couldn't think of a single thing. "See? You can't think of anything! Give up Miley, I know you!" Suddenly, I knew what I'd been saying before.

"No! You don't know a thing about the life I used to live. You don't know who I was or how I acted back then!"

"But I know who you are now. I know who those experiences molded you into. They molded you into my best friend. My new sister."

"That's not the point." I sighed, walking past her. The party was dying now, only Aunt Dolly and the Okens were left. Dad and Heather were sitting next to each other. As I watched, dad whispered into Heather's ear, and she giggled. Ugh, no. I knew Lily would talk to Oliver, so I didn't bother to talk to him. His parents were helping Dolly clean things up, and I couldn't handle being around adults. My best bet was Jackson, but he was flirting with a pretty girl on the dance floor, the daughter of a friend of Heather's, and I knew he wouldn't want his kid sister breaking that up. Instead, I walked to the opposite side of the dance floor and began working on some new Hannah moves. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Lily tackle Oliver. They laughed and joked in the corner of my vision.

Just as I was leaning forward to gather power to spring up, a hand landed on my shoulder. I sprung up in my motion, completely caught off guard. "Ow!" I turned to see Owen, stumbling backwards to lean against the DJ booth, clutching his jaw. I put two and two together to realize that my shoulder had slammed into his jaw.

"I'm so sorry!" I gushed, rubbing my own injury.

"No biggie." He answered, standing up straight. "See, I'm fine."

"Glad to see it." I answered.

"So, what was that move for? Disarm attackers?" I laughed.

"No, it's a dance move. See?" I demonstrated the move correctly.

"That looks like something a pop star would do." He sounded disgusted and held his nose in signal of a bad smell. "Why would you dance like that?"

"'cause I wanna." I answered, shrugging and hoping he didn't hate pop music, although I knew he probably would. Something about "bad-boy" and "pop music" like Hannah's don't exactly mix. "You got a problem with that?"

"No, just checking that you weren't some wannabe. Those people who are always falling over stars, they're pathetic."

"Oh, I'm not like that." I assured him, silently adding: 'Trust me. I know how annoying those people can be.'

"Good, 'cuz I like people who are their own people."

"Don't worry, I'm one-of-a-kind you-wish-you-were-me unique!" I exclaimed, showing him another move.

"Good." He whispered. He placed his hand steadying on my waist, stopping my fast-paced movement. I straightened, following his lead. He placed his other hand on my waist too, and I placed mine on his shoulders. We didn't need words as we swayed and danced in time to the music. But the song ended too soon – literally. The DJ had to pack up and cut the song off early. I groaned, but it didn't seem to phase Owen. He just took my hand and led me over to an empty chair. He hopped onto the table while I sat on the chair, forcing me to look up to him. "This was nice." He stated simply, "do you want to do it again sometime?"

"The dancing or the talking?" I asked, confused.

"Either, or both." He answered, "Whatever you prefer."

"I'd love to do this again. The talking and the dancing," I stated, adding as an afterthought, "but maybe to a bit faster beat?"

"Sure." He answered. "Meet me at Rico's, tomorrow at 11:30, okay?"

"Okay." I answered. He jumped off the table. In one swift motion he kissed me again, but a second later he was gone, and I was left with a tingle on my lips.

**Author's Note**

So, how'd you like it? Tell me in a review! Oh, and for those of you who read the "divulged plot" last chapter, know that I've been doing some serious tinkering and that this is VERY LOOSELY based on that, okay?

Gosh, I'd better stop writing and study for my mid-terms! Arg!


	4. A Dinner Date

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**IMPORTANT**

This story will fork after Chapter 15. At that point, the story can go one of two ways. Each way has its dramas, and they both end at the same number of chapters. You can read both or you can just read one, I'm just warning you ahead of time. Because of this, a new story has been added to my account, and the first 15 chapters will be the same as on here, the only difference is that this is "Falling Fast A" and the other is "Falling Fast B". Oh, and they will both update at the same time, no worries!

**Chapter #3**

_A Diner Date_

"_Meet me at Rico's, tomorrow at 11:30, okay?"_

"_Okay." I answered. He jumped off the table. In one swift motion he kissed me again, but a second later he was gone, and I was left with a tingle on my lips._

**FALLING FAST**

The next morning I woke up to the smell of pancakes wafting up to my room. Dad and Heather had left on their honeymoon, a cruise to Alaska. In the meantime, Aunt Dolly had come to stay with us, which ment her famous blueberry pancakes. No one, and I mean no one, can make blueberry pancakes like my Aunt Dolly. She actually figured out how to make them, literally, blue. And while I grew up passed that by the time I was nine, it's still pretty cool. But looking at the digital clock next to me, I knew there wouldn't be much time for pancakes. It was quarter to eleven! Quickly, I jumped into the luckily open shower and quickly washed myself and dressed in an outfit I'd laid out the night before.

I decided to go with something a bit dressier than my norm, considering that he'd mentioned dancing. The cotton slipped easily over my head and it fell in place easily. The dress was yellow, not blindingly bright, orange-tinged, or faded; but a nice yellow with white polka-dots. It was a tank-top style smock-dress with ruffles on its straps, neck, and bottom. Unlike popular dresses, it actually came past my knees. I down-played it with a regular green jacket from A&E and some fun green jewelry. The sandals matched well too, they were simple green thongs with white polka-dots. Checking the clock, I transferred my cell, wallet, and iPod to my white purse and hurried down stairs.

"Well hey there, Darlin'." Dolly greeted, "you look nice today."

"Thanks." I answered, taking a seat at the table. It was 11:07, meaning I only had three minutes before I had to leave if I wanted to get there and not be sweaty.

"Why don't you have some pancakes?" she offered.

"No thanks, I'm not all that hungry." I answered, even as my mouth watered at the sight of my plate.

"Are ya sure, hun?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I've really got to get goin'."

"Where're ya goin'." She asked, confused.

"On a date with Owen." Lily answered nastily.

"Ooo-eee, who's this Owen?" Aunt Dolly pried. "Is he cute?"

"Adorable." I answered.

"Have fun, and remember every detail, 'cause I want to here it all!" she gushed. I smiled and nodded before dashing out the back door.

**FALLING FAST**

When I arrived at the shack, Owen was already there. His hair was a bit tousled by the wind as he leaned casually on the counter, talking to Rico. They seemed to be having a light-hearted argument as Owen popped colorful skittles into his mouth. That was one thing about Owen, you could never find him without a bag of the rainbowific candies.

"How's it goin'?" I asked, leaning next to Owen. He was wearing a nice, clean pair of jeans and a button-up dark blue shirt with an artistic paint splatter over its thin white stripes. The sleeves were rolled up, nearly to his elbows, to reveal well-muscled arms.

"Great." He answered, placing an arm around my shoulder. "Well, thanks for the information, Rico." He turned on the little boy so that we were face to face. "Shall we go?" he asked playfully.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked accusingly.

"Just on a little adventure. Now, hold still and close your eyes." I did as I was told, feeling him tie a bandana over my eyes. When I opened them all I could see was yellow.

"No fair!" I exclaimed.

"Just a trust exercise," He explained, "we're not going far and as long as you listen well, you won't get hit by a car."

"Well that's reassuring." I sighed, not letting him now how excited I was by the prospect of this adventure. "So, lead the way Mr. Trust."

"Ok, now just let me guide you for a little bit." He requested, placing his hands on my shoulders. I let him push me to the right, and could feel the difference as sand turned to a concrete sidewalk and the sound of waves turned to cars and people. "Now walk forward, ten steps." I did as I was told. "To the left twenty steps." I walked away from the road, still following instructions. He wove me around and I had the vague idea he was taking me on a million little detours.

"Owen." I sighed, tired of the experiment. "How much farther?"

"Take two steps forward." He answered; no emotion in his voice. "About-face." I turned to face the direction his voice was coming from. "And sit." I felt behind me before I sat, which made him laugh. Underneath me was the cushiony plastic-fabric of a diner-booth seat. "Turn in your seat." Again, I followed instructions, letting my arms fall onto the table in front of me. I felt his body shift as he leaned over to remove the bandana. I smelt his neck randomly as he did so, and I was in heaven. I was sad when he pulled away, taking the scent with him. But my vision had been restored, for which I was grateful.

It turned out that I was right, in some ways. We were in an old-time-y diner I vaguely recognized from looking in the windows, but I'd never entered it before. The style was close to Silver Diner with a mini juke-box on each table. I kind of reminded me of the hangout of _Jimmy Neutron_. The room would be a square, but the door was on an awkwardly-tilted wall. Booths lined three walls, the fourth was a counter with seating and a register, the kitchen not well hidden behind. Chairs and tables that would otherwise occupy the center had been stacked in three booths, making a well-lit dance floor. Two couples were already up, one a pair of thirty-something's that were obviously having a blast. The other was a man, dancing a little girl on his feet as she giggled and twirled. It reminded me so much of how dad and I had been. From the sidelines I saw her mother, clapping to the catchy beat and cheering them on. Next to her was a little boy, maybe two or three years older than his sister. So much like how my family had been.

I tried to focus on something else. The room was colorful, but with an emphasis on pinks and reds. Very Valentines. On the walls were bright signs and funny sayings that made me laugh.

"Do you like it?" Owen asked, an edge of concern in his voice.

"I love it." I answered as a waitress roller-bladed over. Her uniform was a white button-up shirt and pink poodle skirt. I had to smile when she pullet out her order pad and asked for our orders.

"What can I get you?" she asked kindly.

"A coke for me," Owen ordered, "and for you…?"

"Pink lemonade, please." I asked.

"Commin' right up." She answered, "Can I get you an appetizer, or do you need a bit more time?"

"Could we have mozzarella sticks?" Owen asked. She nodded, scribbling down the order.

"I'll be back in a flash." She answered, rollerblading away, through a swinging kitchen door.

"Are you hungry?" Owen asked, pulling out our menus and handing me one.

"Yeah, I didn't have any breakfast." I answered, studying the laminated paper. A lot of things looked good. It was standard all-American diner fair. Spaghetti, grilled cheese, burger, and chicken fingers were all offered. There were a variety of sodas, fruit juices, and milkshakes to choose from. What was most impressive were their desserts, which were definitely their main attraction. They took up two whole pages and ranged from simple to fancy, one serving to an entire table's worth.

"May I recommend the pancakes?" he asked, pointing out the order. "Their buttermilk pancakes are the best I've ever had."

"Do they still serve them so close to noon?" I asked. He simply pointed to a sigh above the counter. It read: 'breakfast served all day'. Cool. "So what are you having?" I asked, placing back my menu and grabbing a sugar packet to play with.

"A cheeseburger." He answered nonchalantly. "Hey, have you ever played sugar-packet football?" he asked, grabbing his own Splenda.

"Oh yeah, I used to play it when I was little." The memories flooded my mind. Jackson and I would team up against dad in the game. Mom would refuse to join, calling it immature, but still rooting for us kids and laughing. Eventually, dad would give up and let us win before we got too rowdy. I made a goal with my hands as Owen set up his shot. He gave it a simple flick, and the yellow soared through the goal. "Score!" I shouted, throwing my arms in the air.

"Your turn." He offered, creating his own goal. I flicked, but fell short by a whole two inches.

"Two chances." Owen insisted as I turned the sugar over to him.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"You get two chances."

"Aww, don't go all softy on me 'cause I'm a girl!" I insisted, placing the packet in his hand.

"I don't want it; it's still your turn. That's how I always play." He told me, forcing me to take it.

"You're sure?" I asked, setting up my shot.

"I'm sure." He answered as my Splenda soared through his goal.

Eventually we got up and danced. Today's moves were much more impressive than the ones from yesterday. He twirled me around until I was too dizzy to stand. He dipped my three times, on the third my hair brushed the tiled floor. We jumped around and had a blast, occasionally breaking for food. We were having too good a time to give up after the meal was over, so after an okay from Aunt Dolly we ventured over to the local theater and shared sour patch kids over Pirates of the Caribbean. He was a true gentleman, and insisted on paying the lunch bill, but let me pay for the candy at the theater. (After much begging, of course) It took a while for us to wander in the direction of my house, and we lingered on the porch.

**FALLING FAST**

"So, that was fun." He stated.

"Yeah, it was great. I had a blast." I answered.

"I'm glad you had fun."

"You had fun too, right?"

"I was around you," he answered, "How could I not have had fun?" I blushed. "You're so cute when you blush." He whispered, only making my face grow hotter. He leaned in and kissed me for the final time.

"Good bye." I whispered politely.

"Good bye." He replied, stepping off the porch. "I'll see you at school."

"See ya then." I answered casually, but secretly hoping we'd meet up before that. He paused on the last step.

"Or maybe before?" he asked hopefully.

"Definitely before," I answered with a smile, "see you later, Owen." As I walked into the living room I was on cloud nine.

**IMPORTANT**

This story will fork after Chapter 15. At that point, the story can go one of two ways. Each way has it's dramas, and they both end at the same number of chapters. You can read both or you can just read one, I'm just warning you ahead of time. Because of this, a new story has been added to my account, and the first 15 chapters will be the same as on here, the only difference is that this is "Falling Fast A" and the other is "Falling Fast B". Oh, and they will both update at the same time, no worries!

**Author's Note**

Miley's yellow dress (well it used to come in yellow): /catalog/product.jsp?categoryId104&subCategoryId124&productId8777

I just made a vague story plan. To warn you, this should last about twenty chapters, although that number may grow or shrink as I write. Hope you enjoy taking this crazy ride with me!


	5. My First Day of Chai School

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #4**

_My First Day of Chai School_

"_I'll see you at school."_

"_See ya then." I answered casually, but secretly hoping we'd meet up before that. He paused on the last step._

"_Or maybe before?" he asked hopefully._

"_Definitely before," I answered with a smile, "see you later, Owen." As I walked into the living room I was on cloud nine._

**FALLING FAST**

"Rise 'n shine, bud." Announced a voice right next to me.

"No" I muttered, not fully awake.

"Come on, aren't you excited for your first day of high school?"

"No" I muttered, turning to face away and pulling up my covers.

"Come on Miley, jump outa bed and face the day." I didn't even bother to respond to that. "Or I'll give you a nice, cold shower."

"You wouldn't!" I gasped, opening one eye to glare at him.

"Oh yes I would."

"I'm up!" I shouted, throwing off the covers and jumping out of bed. As I grabbed the clothes I'd laid out dad turned to work on waking Lily up. She musn't have complained as much as me because it wasn't long before we were brushing teeth side-by-side.

I hadn't talked to Lily since the wedding. There wasn't really much to say, I guess. She hates my boyfriend, I think her hatred of him is unfair, and neither of us can (ahem, Lily can't) get passed it. That's just the way things were. And with daddy and Heather being all couply (ew) they weren't exactly going to butt in and solve things anytime soon. I doubt they'd even noticed that we hadn't been our giggly, gossipy selves. I spit out my toothpaste and rinsed my mouth of the too-minty taste. Reaching over Lily, I grabbed my brush and started to untangle my head of curls. It always took Lily longer to do her hair then it did for me. I just had to brush it over once and put in a tiny bit of gel to hold the natural curls. While her hair was naturally straight, it did hold a bit of a curl that she had to straighten everyday. No one really knew that she used a straightener, they just assumed her hair was naturally that straight. The things you learn when you live together.

I crinkled my hair and walked down stairs, smoothing out my outfit along the way. I was wearing dark skinny jeans. The fabric had a few faded sparkles in it to make it shimmer. My top was light pink and delicate, but I fixed that with a long necklace with white plastic beads and a large white butterfly charm. Around my wrist was a chunky white watch, and my jacket was slung over the back of my chair at the kitchen table where I wouldn't forget it.

"Pancake time!" Daddy called, just as I landed at the bottom of the stairs. "Hey Miles." He greeted, placing a stack of pancakes on my plate. "Ready for a new school year?"

"No way." I answered, cutting my favorite chocolate chip pancakes.

"Don't worry," he assured me, "you and Lily will start talking again soon."

"You noticed?" I was shocked.

"You think we didn't?" he asked, equally appalled. "Miley, you and Lily are best buds, of course we noticed. We just assumed that something like this would happen. You two aren't used to being together all the time and it'll take some getting used to. Don't worry; it'll all die down eventually." Poor naive dad. Sure, blame this on us living together. In his world, everything was simple.

**FALLING FAST**

The ride to school (Jackson drove) was silent, apart from the local top 40's station blasting through his radio.

"So I want to make this clear." Jackson announced, turning down the radio and parking the car. "You do NOT talk to me. No way, no how. I am not related to fresh meat." He said 'fresh meat' just like Lily said 'Owen'.

"Aww, but you were a freshman once too."

"Yeah, but I'm not anymore." He emphasized. "So no talking to me. Got it?"

"Got it." We chorused. If we'd been getting along, that might have made us burst into giggles. As it was, we just got out of the car and headed to our new school.

"Miley." I turned. Lily was talking to me? Why was she talking to me? I thought we were mad at each other. "Miley, are you still…ya know…dating him?"

"Yeah."

"Well…" she searched for the right words. "Just promise me you'll be careful, okay? I don't want to see you getting hurt, we are sisters after all."

"I'll take care of myself." I promised, a sneer in my voice. I wasn't going to forget what she'd said that easily. I walked faster to shake her off, and was soon inside the main lobby.

The school was large, and maybe a little impressive, but right now it was crowded. Throngs of teenagers stood around, talking and comparing schedules before class. I tried to navigate my way through to where Owen and I had promised to meet. There was, apparently, a little corner where no one hung around for no apparent reason, and he thought that would be a good meeting place. I wasn't so sure. Weaving through the crowd, it was hard to imagine 'less crowded' would be all that much better. But the group thinned out towards the ninth grade lockers and I didn't have to doge anything. Past the library, I saw the wall to my left disappear. That was what Owen had been talking about. And then I saw his hair. He was leaning against a thick column beside the nook, his iPod in his ears, his eyes closed in concentration. It gave me an idea. I walked quietly up to him, knowing he wouldn't hear me; his music was too loud. I grabbed his earphones and said "boo!"

He looked startled for a minute, before a huge grin over took his face. "Hey Miley."

"Hi Owen." I stated, handing over the black headphones.

"How do ya like my place?" he asked, gesturing to the open space. It wasn't really a 'nook' or 'open space'. The left wall slanted in to meet a straight wall that covered up a stairwell. The only door was to a janitor's closet and supply room. A couple of extra chairs spilled out of the room, but the area was otherwise empty. It was four or five feet from a freshmen locker common.

"It's great." I answered, sitting beside him. "Because you're here." Now I got to see blush creep up his cheeks and he tried to keep his cool. It was so cute!

"Let me see your schedule." He insisted, grabbing the paper in my hand. It was one of five photocopies I'd made. It looked something like this:

1st period: P.E. with Mr. Link

2nd period: Spanish with Mrs. Rodriguez

4th period: English with Mrs. Taylor

6th period: Algebra with Mr. Mathers

7th period: World History/Geography with Mr. Correli

8th period: Biology with Ms. Kunkle

9th period: Art 1 with Mrs. Kocen

"I have art with you." Owen told me. Instantly, I knew I would live for that one period.

"I didn't know you took art."

"Well, then you don't know much about me."

"I guess I don't." I considered. "But you don't know much about me either."

"I know more about you than you know about me." he stated matter-of-factly.

"Nu-uh."

"Uh-huh."

"No way."

"Yes way!"

"That's impossibible."

"Imposibible?"

"Impossibible."

"Your goofy." He joked, messing with my hair.

"Well you're goofy too!" I argued, laughing, but trying to dodge his hand. He wasn't messing up my hair!

"Not as goofy as you are."

"Oh come on, it's a well-known fact that boys are less immature than girls at this age."

"But I'm more than a year older than you." He pointed our, playing devil advocate.

"Doesn't matter. It's more than a year's difference."

"Oh and how do you know?"

"Because I'm smart like that!" He sighed, but before he could reply the warning bell rang. "Gotta go!" I called grabbing my bag and walking hastily to the gym lobby. Hopefully, I wasn't going to be late on my first day of school. What kind of impression would that leave?

**FALLING FAST**

I spent the rest of the day just waiting for my last class, my only class with Owen. It turned out Lily was in my gym, a great choice by whoever put together our schedules. And of course, Oliver, Lily, Sarah, and Dandruff Danny were all in my World History, not to mention it was taught by my eighth-grade theater teacher. That was actually pretty fun, because he was kind of crazy, but in a good way.

As I stepped into my art class, I knew it was going to be an awkward one. At one table was Owen, waving me over happily, innocently. Behind him, at the next table over was Jake Ryan. Joy to the world. And across the room giving me a death glare were Amber and Ashley. Oh, this class was gonna be a blast. I sat down next to Owen, my back to the evil twits and Jake. As I laid my elbows down on the table Owen looped his own through mine. We silently smiled at each other, and I knew that despite the evil forces surrounding us, this class was going to be a blast.

**Author's Note**

Okay, so to explain the title. "Chai" sounds just like "High" but with a harsher "h" sound (think "Channukah") It's Hebrew for "life". At my religious school (I'm Jewish) the 8th-through-10th grade section is called Chai School. So it's kind of an inside joke, kind of full of meaning, kind of a pun.


	6. Meet the Parents

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #5**

_Meet the Parents_

_As I stepped into my art class, I knew it was going to be an awkward one. At one table was Owen, waving me over happily, innocently. Behind him, at the next table over was Jake Ryan. Joy to the world. And across the room giving me a death glare were Amber and Ashley. Oh, this class was gonna be a blast. I sat down next to Owen, my back to the evil twits and Jake. As I laid my elbows down on the table Owen looped his own through mine. We silently smiled at each other, and I knew that despite the evil forces surrounding us, this class was going to be a blast._

**FALLING FAST**

The little diner soon became Owen and my after-school hang-out. We met up after our last class every day and walked there together. We always took the same booth (the one we'd occupied on the first day) and ordered the same thing (vanilla smoothie for me, chocolate for him and we'd share), and our visit in early October was no different.

"So what homework do you have for today?" Owen asked, sliding into his seat.

"Just some Algebra that I don't understand." I sighed, throwing my backpack in before sliding into my side.

"Well maybe I could help you," he offered, "after all, I've already passed algebra."

"Yes, and remember how well you remembered everything last time?" I joked. Owen was notoriously bad at math; I don't think he could teach simple addition to a six-year-old. He's tried to help me before, but each time the fact that "x" was used in the equation confused him. How he was in honors geometry, I will never know.

"Aw, I'm not that bad." He whined, pointing out a problem on my worksheet. "See? I know that x equals 7 here!"

"Owen." I laughed, "that's a given, I have to prove what y equals."

"Oh." He seemed confused. "Well…I still knew what x was!"

"Good job, Owen." I sighed, taking back the paper as Owen fiddled with the jukebox. He never did his homework with me, and I had the vague suspicion that he never did it at all. Instead, he tried to jip the jukebox into playing a song without a quarter. He hadn't succeeded as of yet, but he insisted that he was close to cracking the 'code'. Finally, he gave in and placed a quarter in the top. No music had been playing before, so one of my favorite songs on the list came on. A song that I just had to dance to. I sighed, knowing I would give in. "Owen!"

"What?' He asked innocently. "A guy can like an Elvis song! I ain't a crime!" I rolled my eyes and dragged him onto the dance floor as the opening of "Hound Dog" played. He was grinning from ear to ear as he spun me round and round. I loved that stupid grin. I lived for it. Most of the time, Owen's eyes were a dark gray, made almost black by the shade of his eyelashes. But with that smile and the right light his face lit up – literally. His gray eyes transformed to a dark, suffocating blue that I thrived on. But it only happened when he was smiling so hard that his normally invisible dimples showed through.

Another couple joined us as the song they'd paid for began. It was a Shania Twain song my mom had loved when I was younger; I think it was her and dad's song, "From This Moment On". Matching the beat, I leaned into Jake as we stepped slowly from one foot to the other. He held me tight, and I could smell him. Feel his hair against my cheek and his muscles under the shirt. When the song ended we sat back down.

"So, I was wonderin' if you'd sing me a lil' somethan'." He asked.

"No."

"Aw, come on."

"No way, no how." I insisted, trying to focus on my worksheet. He pulled it out from under my pencil, causing a stripe of lead down the entire sheet. "Owen!"

"Come on, Miley."

"No, I've heard it too many times. I grew up with that stupid song!"

"Please?" he turned on his puppy dog eyes. Who can say no to puppy dog eyes? I picked up my own quarter and chose the dooming song.

"Ladies and gents." Owen announced, catching the attention of the room as the opening beats of the too-familiar song began. "The stunning, Miley Stewart!" I blushed as he helped me stand on a chair. But the people there seemed amused. Mothers explained the song to their children, a few couples took the dance floor, and other just listened as I belted out the old hit.

You can tell the world you never was my girl  
You can burn my clothes when I'm gone  
Or you can tell your friends just what a fool I've been  
And laugh and joke about me on the phone

You can tell my arms to go back onto the phone  
You can tell my feet to hit the floor  
Or you can tell my lips to tell my fingertips  
They won't be reaching out for you no more

But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
I just don't think it'd understand  
And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
He might blow up and kill this man  
Ooo

You can tell your ma I moved to Arkansas  
Or you can tell your dog to bite my leg  
Or tell your brother Cliff who's fist can tell my lips  
He never really liked me anyway

Oh tell your Aunt Louise, tell anything you please  
Myself already knows that I'm okay  
Oh you can tell my eyes to watch out for my mind  
It might be walking out on me today

But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
I just don't think it'd understand  
And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
He might blow up and kill this man  
Ooo

But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
I just don't think it'd understand  
And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
He might blow up and kill this man  
Ooo

Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
He might blow up and kill this man  
Ooo

Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
He might blow up and kill this man  
Ooo

They clapped as the song ended and Owen helped me down. "Thank you! Thank you!" I called, taking my seat. "Really, you're too kind!"

"Excuse me." a woman was standing at the edge of the table. "Are you really Robby Ray's daughter?"

"The one and only." I answered, grinning. Well, I had been the one and only two months ago.

"I'm a big fan of his; it's an honor to meet you."

"You too." I agreed, shaking her hand.

"Listen, I work on a local paper, and I was wondering if you could get me an interview with him… and maybe you too? Your feelings on his past stardom, and his working with Hannah Montana?"

"Sure." I answered, nodding. "I could probably get you an interview with Hannah too."

"That would be amazing!" She seemed sincerely excited. "Look, here's my number," she handed me a business card, "can you have your dad give me a call?"

"Sure." I answered, taking the little card.

"Thank you, and bye." She walked away.

"Bye!" I called back before turning to see Owen trying to hold back his laughter. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing," he assured me, cockily sipping his smoothie, "get back to your work." I eyed him evilly before returning to my algebra.

**FALLING FAST**

"Goodbye." Owen whispered as he pulled back from the kiss. He was halfway down the front walk when I thought of something.

"Hey Owen!" I called.

"Yeah?" he stopped dead.

"Why don't you come in, and meet my parents?"

"I'm not so sure that'd be a good idea." He whined, walking back towards me.

"Come on! They're dying to meet you!" I pleaded. "I don't think they'll let me date you much longer unless they meet you." I stuck out my lower lip. "Please?" He sighed. "Thank you!" I opened the door and lead the way in. "Hey daddy!" I cheered. He looked up from the Hannah song he was strumming out.

"Hello Miles." He greeted, looking past me, "And who is this?"

"Daddy, this is Owen Oken, Oliver's older brother. He was about to leave and I thought you'd like to meet him before he left."

"I sure would." He agreed. "Hi, Owen."

"Hello Mr. Stewart." He greeted nervously. I didn't listen as they talked, instead focusing on Lily who was giving Owen a death glare from her place at the kitchen table.

"So," Owen's voice shocked me out of my little staring contest with Lily, "I better head home now."

"So soon?" I joked. He gave a small laugh.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Miley." He told me, giving me a quick peck on the cheek before leaving. I stood dazed for a minute before sitting next to dad, and waiting for his verdict.

"He doesn't seem too bad." He said, it was the best I could ask for.

"Thank you daddy!" I squealed giving him a hug. As I marched out of the room I stuck out my tongue in Lily's direction. I'd won and she knew it.

**Author's Note**

So Robby Ray approves, but Lily still doesn't seem to agree. Will things ever be fixed between the two friends? Is everything going to stay so perfect with Miley and Owen? Keep reading to find out, because this story's just about to heat up!

We're already almost ¼ of the way through! Yay! Woops, I mean…sad. Tear tear. Sniff sniff. But this is going really fast, I've written all this in about 3 days! Yikes, that's a lot for me!


	7. Bad Girl, Bad Girl

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #6**

_Bad Girl, Bad Girl_

_I stood dazed for a minute before sitting next to dad, and waiting for his verdict._

"_He doesn't seem too bad." He said, it was the best I could ask for._

"_Thank you daddy!" I squealed giving him a hug. As I marched out of the room I stuck out my tongue in Lily's direction. I'd won and she knew it._

**FALLING FAST**

I danced around my room to the song "Thriller". It was Halloween, and Owen would be by any minute now to take me to a Halloween party, so I was getting ready. We'd both agreed to dress in the style of our favorite hangout. My poodle skirt was a light pink, the poodle a dark red and the sweater a creamy white. My favorite piece was the necklace. Owen had given me a quarter that had been refused by the jukebox when he'd been trying to play Achy Breaky Heart, against my will. He called it my lucky quarter, and I'd asked Jackson to drill a whole in it that night. Now a silver chain was looped through it and it lay proudly on my chest for all to see. I made some final adjustments to my curly ponytail before the door bell rang.

"I'll get it!" I called, bolting down the stairs. Who knew how much damage dad could do if left unsupervised with Owen? Or worse, Jackson. But when I came downstairs, the door had already been opened and Owen sat innocently on the couch. His outfit was much simpler than mine, white shirt, pants, and a leather jacket. No, it was his hair that looked funny tonight; it reminded me a bit of Zac Efron's in _Hairspray_.

"Ready to go?" he asked sweetly, standing.

"Sure." I answered, grabbing my purse.

"Be back by ten." Heather warned, throwing my cell towards me. I grabbed it in my air and turned my back without saying goodbye. "Miley!" she called.

"Back by ten, thanks!" I called, holding up my hand in a wave. Heather was so much stricter than my father had ever been. She always needed to know exactly where I was, when I would be back. If I missed a curfew but more than five minutes, I'd be in deep trouble. It was easy to see know why Lily was always so prompt, something you wouldn't exactly expect from someone so otherwise spazzy.

**FALLING FAST**

The party was a little ways down the block. It was a house a bit larger than my own, but with a similar design. The main room was full of people dancing and talking. Some were in costumes, others weren't. Instead of the usual chips, bowls of candy and a suspicious-looking punch were laid out. The most packed area was the dance floor, with bright colorful lights and hanging plastic spiders. Some people spilled outside for a more relaxed setting and a couple games. Everyone was from Seaview, and it was obvious that no parents were chaperoning the party, but that didn't seem to phase Owen, so I wouldn't let it bother me. What could really happen anyways, right?

We made out way out onto the dance floor, dancing close and fast to the pace of techno music.

"Having fun?" he asked thirty minutes later as we took a quick break.

"Tons." I answered, smiling and looking around for some kind of liquid to drink. I was thirsty after dancing for thirty minutes straight, and the spider-punch was looking better and better.

"What're you looking for?" he asked, sipping a drink in his own hands.

"Something to drink." I answered.

"Here." He handed me a cup of the offending punch. I glared at it, but accepted and took a tentative sip. It tasted like orange juice and Coca-Cola, and some other flavor I couldn't recognize. Not bad, interesting. I quickly ran out and refilled my punch in my thirst. Owen laughed. "Slow down there, Miley." He joked. "Let's dance."

"Kay." I whispered, letting him pull me onto the floor. This time we kept on the fringes and slowed down a little. It was fun, forgetting troubles and living in the moment. I felt untouchable. Nothing bad was going to happen to me, because I had Owen there, and he would never let anything bad happen to me. That is, until I bumped into someone. "Sorry." I muttered.

"Miley?" asked the all-too familiar voice.

"Jake?" I asked, surprised. It didn't look like Jake, but I'd recognize the voice anywhere.

"Shhh, it's Milos." He answered. He was right; he had on the black, slightly-curly wig and sun glasses. The irony of it was that otherwise he was dressed as his Zombie High character. "Jake Ryan would never dress up as himself, right?" he asked, I think hoping to have me comment on his 'genius' disguise.

"Brilliant." I said sarcastically.

"I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Well I've been meaning to avoid you." I told him, turning sharply. I heard a satisfying 'ow' as my ponytail made contact with his head.

"You didn't have to do that." He muttered, stalking away.

"Oh yes I did!" I called vindictively after him. Satisfied, I turned back to Owen who was looking at me, thoroughly confused.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"Just and old boyfriend." I excused nonchalantly. "But he turned out to be a real jerk."

"Do you want me to hurt him?" Owen offered.

"No, no it's fine." I assured, leaning into him.

"If you're sure." He didn't sound convinced as he pulled me in closer. I snuggled in and we continued to dance for another ten minutes before he broke us apart again. "Miley?" he asked.

"Mmm." I groaned, not wanting to let go of him.

"Can we talk…in private."

"As long as I can hold onto you." I answered, holding onto him as much for my own stability as I did to be near him. Something wasn't quite right in that punch. He laughed, and led me upstairs, seeming to lose his footing a couple times. I giggled as he led me into a small bedroom and sat me on the bed.

"Miley." He whispered. He seemed excited, eager. "I've been thinking, we should really take this to the…next level." I nodded, not fully paying attention. "You want to?" he asked.

"Sure, sure." I whispered, holding onto him in my drunken stupor. He leaned me backwards and lay me on the bed before suspending himself over me. As he leaned forward to kiss my forehead I giggled and began to unbutton his shirt. There isn't really much that I remember about that except for being so, so close to him. And ecstasy. Not the drug, the emotion. I guess we must have 'done it' a couple times over, because I was so much drunker when I called home then when we'd started out. I do remember lying on the bed, completely naked, and just thinking about what had happened. Then, I think, someone tried to come into the room and we got dressed really fast. That's when things become clearer, because I wasn't in the dark anymore. I grabbed my cell and ran out of the room without looking back, thinking that Owen could follow. He didn't, and I was secretly glad.

As I shuffled out of the room, I yanked out my cell phone. Multi-tasking caused me to trip on my own two feet. Realizing that I couldn't handle both tasks simultaneously, I hastily sat at the top of the stairs, pushing the instrument open and speed-dialing home. Never before had I been so grateful for the invention of speed dial. Each ring seemed to penetrate and reverberate loudly through my head. Finally, someone picked up.

"Hello?" Heather asked calmly.

"Heather." Not a relief, this wasn't going to be pretty. "I d-didn't kn-know there w-was something in the p-punch." Tears began to roll down my cheeks as I realized what had just happened. "B-but I'm not h-having trouble w-walking, and I d-don't thinking I can m-make it home safely." No lie there.

"Okay hunny." She sounded surprisingly calm. "Can you give me the address?"

"It's on the c-counter." I whispered, trying to keep my voice under control.

"I'll meet you at the door." She told me, handing up.

"Thanks." I whispered to no one in particular as I shut my phone. It seemed to take forever to get safely down the stairs and out the door. The cold autumn air blew through my thin sweatshirt and played havoc with my skirt. I felt my stomach toss and darted for the bushes. I just made it. Listening to the sickening sound of vomit hitting siding, I realized exactly how much trouble I was in.

Suddenly, I felt a warm hand on my back and straightened up. Heather silently handed me a plastic Target bag. With a weak smile she stretched her arm around my cool shoulders and began to lead me home

**FALLING FAST**

When I woke up the next morning I had the biggest headache ever. Seriously. I don't think I'll ever drink again, because that was hell itself, let alone the other symptoms. I let out a huge groan and shifted over to my side so I could hold my head more easily.

"Miley?" Lily asked. She sounded perky. Too perky.

"mmmmm." I groaned in response.

"Are you sick?" I shook my head, regretting it as it aggravated my headache. "Miley, I'm getting mom." I head her run out into the hallway and call downstairs, the loud noise only making me feel worse. "She'll be here in a minute." She told me. Suddenly, I felt her sit on the bed, the shift making my body's aches worse. I groaned again, but she didn't pay any attention. "What hurts?" she asked, pressing her cool hand against my forehead. "You don't have a temperature." She told me, a fact I already knew.

"Hey Lils," I heard Heather enter the room, and soon she came into view, a piece of toast and a glass or orange juice in hands. "Miley, can you sit up?" she asked, helping me. "Okay, I know this doesn't really look all that appetizing right now, but I promise the juice will help you, okay?"

"Yeah." I answered, not really up to talking.

"Do you feel nauseas?" she asked kindly, dragging my mini-trashcan over, but I shook my head. "Well, this is here if you do, okay?"

"Thanks." I whispered.

"Not a problem. Just relax, eat the toast and try to get some rest, okay? If you feel up to it, try a bath or shower. Just call if you need anything, I'll be home all day?"

"Okay." I answered, surprised that she was being so understanding.

"Come on Lily." She stood and forced Lily up too. "Let's let Miley get some rest, okay?" She steered her out into the hallway, but I could still hear their conversation.

"What's wrong with her?" Lily asked.

"She didn't know there was alcohol in the punch last night and she has a bit of a hangover." She answered kindly.

"Why isn't she in trouble for drinking?" she asked incredulously.

"She will be, but we have to remember that hangovers are hell, and it was a mistake." I didn't bother listening to the rest as I sipped my orange juice, not tasting a thing.

**Author's Note**

Hope I described hangover/drunk correctly. If I didn't please tell me, but be nice! The only time I've ever had wine was at synagogue, and it was never more than a small medicine up-full of disgusting cheap stuff.

Okay I should really be studying for my Latin test…Oh well!


	8. The Verdict

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast **

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #7**

_The Verdict_

"_What's wrong with her?" Lily asked._

"_She didn't know there was alcohol in the punch last night and she has a bit of a hangover." She answered kindly._

"_Why isn't she in trouble for drinking?" she asked incredulously._

"_She will be, but we have to remember that hangovers are hell, and it was a mistake." I didn't bother listening to the rest as I sipped my orange juice, not tasting a thing._

**FALLING FAST**

I spent the rest of that day holed up in my room. I slept all the way through lunch until about 2 o'clock, at which point my body was sick of sleeping. With my headache receding and my appetite coming back, I took a long bubble bath befor scavenging downstairs for some food. I didn't find much, and I knew that daddy would come home tonight with groceries. In the meantime I grabbed a stick of string cheese and sat down on the comfy sofa for some one-on-one time with the television.

Forty-five minutes into a Sabrina the Teenage Witch marathon, the phone rang, and I grabbed it. "Hello?"

"Hey." Replied the familiar, sexy voice of Owen.

"Hi."

"Well are we going to say anything more meaningful than 'hi'?" he asked, making me giggle. "Apparently not." More giggles. "So how bad's your hangover?" that made me shut up.

"I guess I'm over most of it." I answered truthfully. True enough.

"Good, because I'm not."

"you aren't?"

"I didn't leave for a long time." He sighed. "I spent nearly an hour searching for you."

"Oh, I'm sorry." I apologized, bowing my head in shame.

"It's okay." He assured me. "So how are the 'rents taking this?"

"I don't really know." I explained, "Heather just let me sleep half the day and I haven't seen her or dad since. I think they know it was a mistake, and that'll take the hard edges off their punishment."

"Do they know about…ya know?"

"No way! I'm not stupid enough to tell them that! Plus, I was so, so drunk I don't think I can really have been held responsible for my actions then."

"I'm sorry Miley."

"For what?"

"For getting you drunk, for making you have sex with me."

"That's as much your fault as mine." I told him sharply. "Listen, Owen, I knew there was something up with that punch and I drank it anyways. I could have gone for tap water, but I didn't. It's my fault. And as for the …other…part. Well, I don't regret it. I love you Owen, and I can't imagine a first time being any better."

"You can't? That's pretty pathetic."

"Oh like your some sex-genius?" I laughed, and he did too. But it ended abruptly.

"I gotta go." He whispered, and the line clicked off.

**FALLING FAST**

"So, what's the story, mornin' glory?" dad asked. It was just after dinner. He's sent Jackson and Lily upstairs so that he and Heather could talk to me. I took a second to gather my thoughts, adjusting some magazines with my foot.

"Owen told me that there was this Halloween party he'd heard about, and he wanted to take me. I asked you guys, and you said yes. When I got there, it looked like a lot of fun. It was kind of a half-costume party, half regular-party. There was a lot of dancing. So we danced for a long time. And I got really thirsty. I thought the punch might have looked a little funky, but I was so thirsty that it didn't bother me as much as it should have. And, after that first cup I couldn't really seem to stop. I must have had three or four total, before I got away from everything and called home. Heather picked me up, and I spent all of today getting over my hangover. That's really it." I summed up. Not a lie, but an abridged version.

"Is that it?" Dad asked roughly.

"Yeah." I squeaked, nudging Simple Living over Us Weekly. He let out a heavy sigh and shared a look with Heather.

"Ok, Miley why don't you go out on the porch?" I nodded, thrusting myself off of the couch and walking onto the deck to watch the sunset as they decided on my verdict.

What would my punishment be? I wondered. How tough were they gonna be? Had I emphasized enough how I had no clue that the punch was alcoholic? Had I seemed too rushed at the end, letting them think something more had happened? Would they weigh in that this was a first-time offense, or would my family's problem with alcohol overshadow that? Who was on my side? Heather had been kind and understanding before, but was she still? Would dad defend me if she went overboard on punishment? Before the marriage Lily had been kept on a tight leash, would mine be just as short? These thoughts ran through my head as the sun sunk low into the sea. Deciding not to obsess over my future, I climbed into the hammock strung in the corner of two walls and watched the clouds passed over head as a painter colored the sky. It had just reached a perfect purple that turned to hot pink at the sunset line when I was recalled for sentencing. I flipped casually off the hammock and headed inside, closing the door with a shiver as the first of the night-time breeze blew.

I sat down, alone on the big green couch.

"I…we…understand that this was all a big mistake." Daddy began. "But there is a lesson to be learned from all of this, and a punishment to be laid out." He sighed, a tired, martyred parent-of-a-teenager sigh I knew so well. It was just that Jackson normally was the one earning it. "You're not going to be grounded. But you're not allowed to be near Owen unless you're at school, at our house, or we've approved. And there are limits. You two are in no way allowed anywhere together after eight o'clock, or before school. No phone calls, texts, IMs, nothing. If you go anywhere after five, we must give you permission, no exceptions. Your curfew is now eight on weeknights, ten on weekends. Everything except the curfew lasts until December. Your curfew will be repealed by January first, at our discretion, okay?"

"Yes."

"I don't want any of these rules broken."

"I understand."

"Okay." He stood, "you probably shouldn't be up too late right now. Why don't you call Owen to tell him your sentence, okay?"

" 'kay." I answered, trying not to show how eager I was. For a second a contemplated going upstairs with my cell, but somehow I knew that wouldn't comply with the rules. Instead, I grabbed the downstairs phone, dialed his number, and curled up against the chair's arm.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Oken?" I asked.

"This is she."

"Can I talk to Owen?"

"Owen's busy at the moment." She said sternly, as if I should have known better, and hung up. Rude much!

**Author's Note**

I'm so, so sorry! I didn't realize that my separation thingies weren't appearing until this chapter! I've gone back and added the new "**FALLING FAST**" ones to all the chapters to make things less confusing!

Hope you're enjoying so far. Sorry it wasn't that long, the next one should be!

I think my Latin test and bio mid-term actually didn't go that badly! And I didn't have to memorize the bone dance! Amazing!


	9. Shop Like Money's No Object

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #8**

_Shop Like Money's No Object_

"_Mrs. Oken?" I asked._

"_This is she."_

"_Can I talk to Owen?"_

"_Owen's busy at the moment." She said sternly, as if I should have known better, and hung up. Rude much!_

**FALLING FAST**

It was Saturday afternoon, the weekend after my grounding began. I'd spent most of the day locked up in my room, trying to get through an English reading. After suffering through almost half of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, I'd given up for the day. Now I was lying lazily in our hammock, playing Tetris on my cell and listening to my iPod. The day was unusually cold, so I was curled under a light blanket with only my right leg showing to rock me by pushing off the wall.

Suddenly, my game was broken by a text message from Traci. It read:

_Hannah!! MAJOR CRISIS!!_

I sighed. The last time Traci had texted me with a crisis it was because she didn't know what to say to Zac Efron. Sometimes, that girl made me crazy. Still, she was my friend and I texted back.

_What's wrong?_

She replied almost instantly.

_Can't find a good bathing suit, help! Am Shady Grove Mall._

Wow. Crisis. Still, I replied dutifully.

_Am grounded, but I'll see._

With a sigh, I took off my headphones and flipped off the hammock. "Daddy?" I called, walking into the house. He looked up guiltily from a piece of chocolate cake. "Can I go to the mall?"

"You're kind of grounded, Miles." He replied, obviously relieved not to be being punished for excessive calorie consumption.

"I know, but its Traci. She's not gonna quit bugging me until I help her. It's just finding a bathing suit. Anyways, we need Hannah to be spotted out at malls and stuff right?" That was true. He'd been getting on my case not two weeks ago for not being spotted being "average Hannah" hanging at malls. A girl can't only be spotted singing, it's not natural.

"Fine." He sighed, knowing a lost battle when he saw one. "I'll drive you. We were going to meet Heather and Lily for dinner in a couple hours anyways."

"Thanks daddy!" I replied, stealing a quick bite of cake.

"Yeah, yeah, go get dressed." I sprinted upstairs while texting the good news to Traci.

**FALLING FAST**

Twenty minutes later I was wondering into the mall, wigged and hidden behind large-lensed sunglasses, although there was really no need. Shady Grove was our celebrity-mall. All the stores were high-end, and very few stores were ones you'd find in average malls. It was small, half-open half-building and as eco-friendly as they could muster. Everything shone; nothing was dirty in any way. It was almost eerie. But, it was cool. Merely walking in I'd already spotted Ashley and Vanessa walking into a store together, behind them was Zac looking hoodwinked and annoyed as he lugged their heavy bags. Stifling a giggle, I made my way to the store Traci had told me she was in.

"Hey Hannah!" she called from the racks of bathing suits. I wandered over to her. She was holding up two suits, one bold and rainbow-striped, the other a light yellow with a flirty ruffle. "I just don't know." She said seriously, shaking her head.

"Why don't you try them both on?" I suggested the obvious. She nodded, grabbing a couple more off the rack.

"Good idea." She led me to the row of changing stalls, pointing to one next to hers. "I found a couple you might like too." She told me. Sure enough, there was a small pile on the low bench.

"Oh Trace, I don't need a bathing suit." I whined, dropping my purse outside the stall.

"Come on, I feel so bad for dragging you out." She pleaded, turning on her too-useful puppy dog eyes.

"Oh fine." I sighed, closing the door behind me and looking at the piled of suits. I chose a red-white-and-blue piece with stripes and stars first. Very patriotic. The outfit would have looked a little dark, maybe edgy with my brown curls, but the straight blonde locks made it seem sweet and innocent, perfect for America's little pop star princess.

"Let me see!" Tracy called. I opened my door to find her holding her cell, pretending to take pictures like paparazzi. "Over here Ms. Montana!" she joked, waving a hand. I laughed and twirled, showing it off.

"Whaddaya think?" I asked, striking a pose.

"Cute!" Tracy squealed, placing the phone down. "Mine?" she struck out her own pose, then another. It was the yellow suit, which looked good with her black hair and brought out the blue in her eyes.

"Runway worthy!"

"Really?" she asked, disbelieving.

"Totally." I nodded, "And look! A runway just for us!" I joked, pointing to the short hall of stalls in front of us. At the end was a set of three floor-length mirrors and some cute chairs. I gave her a gentle push forward, and she began to strut. I followed behind her, blowing kisses and waving to the invisible crowd. As the end we posed and cheered for each other, setting ourselves into a fit of giggles.

We continued to model our possible purchases, finally settling on three each. Just as we were leaving, my cell went off.

"Daddy?" I asked, picking up.

"Hey Hannah." He greeted, "we're meeting for dinner at The Cheesecake Factory in ten minutes, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." I answered, stepping away from Traci, "as Hannah, right?"

"Right." He told me, "no better way to get the best seat than to be a famous pop star." He laughed.

"Everyone here's famous too." I reminded him with a laugh. "I'll be there."

"See ya later Miles." He said before I turned the phone off.

"Traci, my dad wants to meet me for dinner, and it's all the way across the mall, so I better go." I told her.

"I'll come with." She told me, "I need to go across too, there's this ice cream store on that side and I've heard one of the servers is very cute." I laughed and we headed across the mall. It was fun to be "normal" and "famous" at the same time.

**Author's Note**

So I thought it would be fun to have her as "Hannah", but still be as a normal teen. Also, to show that she really isn't being punished all that badly. Plus, this kind of sets things up for later. Ooops! Said too much. Anyways, the story plan has been expanded to 26, 27 with an epilogue, so this is maybe a third of the way through, where before it would've been nearly half-way! I swear, the work of an author is never done…

My grades are goin' dooooowwwwwwn. No more writing for me. Haha. I'll still write! Remember, I'm writing this ahead of time! Like, I wrote this chapter way back in the first week of March! Eeeep! Well actually I'm writing it now.. but I'm guessing it'll come out around May or June? Maybe July! Wow, that's a long way away! I could have my permit by then! Scary! (for everyone else, not me!)


	10. Worries Are Worthless

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**DOUBLE CHAPTER UPDATE 'CAUSE DAVID COOK IS BEAST YO!**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #9**

_Worries are Worthless_

"_Traci, my dad wants to meet me for dinner, and it's all the way across the mall, so I better go." I told her._

"_I'll come with." She told me, "I need to go across too, there's this ice cream store on that side and I've heard one of the servers is very cute." I laughed and we headed across the mall. It was fun to be "normal" and "famous" at the same time._

**FALLING FAST**

"I'm a lucky girl, whose dreams came true. But underneath it all I'm just like you." I belted, feeling the rush as the crowd erupted into cheers. "Thank ya'll! You know, this has been one amazing birthday. And what made it so great was getting to spend it with my fans. Now, I want to give a little of that back to you. I think it ya'll clap loud enough; my daddy would be willing to do a little duet with me. Let me hear you clap in one, two…" The room filled with whoops and cheers. Daddy ran on stage, giving me a big bear hug before turning to face the over-flowing stadium.

"Before we star, I'd just like to thank ya'll for lovin' and supportin' my baby girl. It means the world to us that you came out here today, and this is our way of saying thank-you. Without further ago, let's sing a song that I've never bothered to learn the line dance to!" Again, cheers filled the stadium, as well as some laughter. Behind us, the mega-speakers began to blare the infectious rhythm.

"You can tell the world you never was my girl  
You can burn my clothes when I'm gone  
Or you can tell your friends just what a fool I've been  
And laugh and joke about me on the phone" he sang, letting me pick it up.

"You can tell my arms to go back onto the phone  
You can tell my feet to hit the floor  
Or you can tell my lips to tell my fingertips  
They won't be reaching out for you no more"

Then he joined in, and we sang together, "But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
I just don't think it'd understand  
And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
He might blow up and kill this man  
Ooo"

Then he soloed again, "You can tell your ma I moved to Arkansas  
Or you can tell your dog to bite my leg  
Or tell your brother Cliff who's fist can tell my lips  
He never really liked me anyway"

He handed the mike back to me for, "Oh tell your Aunt Louise, tell anything you please  
Myself already knows that I'm okay  
Oh you can tell my eyes to watch out for my mind  
It might be walking out on me today"

"But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
I just don't think it'd understand  
And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
He might blow up and kill this man  
Ooo" we sang together, then I let him have his moment.

"But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
I just don't think it'd understand  
And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
He might blow up and kill this man  
Ooo" then he handed it over to me.

"Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
He might blow up and kill this man  
Ooo" and finally, we sang together:

"Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart  
He might blow up and kill this man  
Ooo"

Again, the cheers were deafening. We gave our final bows and ran off stage, laughing

**FALLING FAST**

That night after the concert was my Hannah birthday party. It was crazy, and fun for most people. Me on the other hand, I spent the entire time worrying.

My period was two weeks late.

It could have been stress, and under normal circumstances I would have just blown it off as nothing, but this time nagging suspicions lingered at the edge of my conscious. My life hadn't really been all that stressful recently, and my only real problem was my constant silent war with Lily. But then there was the fact that I couldn't quite remember if Owen and I had used protection. My bet was on "not", making things all the worse. I mean, I certainly didn't carry any, and no one else at the party would have any either, or at least have given it away. So did Owen carry any? Somehow, he didn't strike me as that kind of guy.

I spent the first hour of the party playing the role of "hostess" I was all false-smiles and fake-hugs as I clutched my lemonade and greeted my guests. Most people seemed to accept this as normal and moved on, but not Mary, my close cousin visiting from out of town. As my former best friend, she immediately caught on to my façade. As the person she is, her begging me to tell her what was up was blunt and hard to ignore. Finally, I caved. She dragged me down the hall to a secluded bathroom in the nearly-empty restaurant of the hotel whose ballroom we were renting out.

"Spill." She demanded as I jumped onto the counter.

"There's nothing up." I answered, not looking her in the eye.

"I'm you're best friend and you're not gonna fool me."

"Really Mary," I exclaimed, "nothing's wrong."

"We can do this the hard way, or the easy way. Your choice." She threatened, jangling her purse evilly. I didn't even want to know what was in there. Sighing, I pushed myself off of the counter. Kneeling, I checked under each and every bathroom stall, making sure no one was there to eavesdrop. Resigned, I walked over to my cousin, pushed back her red hair and cupped my hand around her right ear.

I whispered, "I think I might be pregnant."

"WHAT!?" she screamed, bursting my eardrum in the process.

"Ow!" I complained, holding my ear.

"Sorry." She whispered guiltily. "What?" she whispered. "When? Where? Who?"

"Halloween. A party, with alcohol. Owen Oken." I answered bluntly as tears seemed to crawl behind my eyes.

"We have to confirm this." She insisted, taking charge. That's the thing about Mary, she might be a year younger than me, but she's the one you want to be around in a crisis. She gave me a quick hug and the order to "stay" before disappearing. A minute later she reappeared, a small, thin box in hand.

"Oh no, I'm not taking that!" I insisted, waving her off.

"Do you want me to make you." Not wanting to imagine that scenario, I grabbed the box and followed the instructions. A minute later, I opened the door again. "How long?" she asked, poking the directions. I skimmed the paper.

"Five minutes." I answered, glaring at the stick. Suddenly, the door swung open. Instinctively, I dropped the stick and it's instructions into my purse.

"Miley!" Aunt Dolly exclaimed, waving me forward. "Everyone's lookin' fer yew."

"Then I better get out there." I answered, putting on a brave smile. I zipped up my purse and marched out.

**FALLING FAST**

I didn't get another free moment for the rest of the party, and that night I was so exhausted that I couldn't bear to look at the results, because either way I knew I'd get worked up over them, whatever they were.

**Author's Note**

Results next chapter. Sorry this one was so short, I worked for forever on it, and it gave me writer's block!

One-third of the way there! Woo-hoo! It 'twas my sis's bat mitzvah yesterday! Fun, but I'm dead on my feet!


	11. The Most Important Test

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast **

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #10**

_The Most Important Test_

_I didn't get another free moment for the rest of the party, and that night I was so exhausted that I couldn't bear to look at the results, because either way I knew I'd get worked up over them, whatever they were._

**FALLING FAST**

I woke up early the next morning, probably out of nerves. Nerves for the results of a test.

Sighing, I rolled out of bed and tried to do as many things as I could before I opened my purse. I took a shower and spent nearly thirty minutes just looking at tops to wear. I couldn't bear to straighten my hair, but I did spend nearly forty minutes making sure each and every one of my teeth was perfectly-cleaned and flossed. Finally, I had to face facts. I had nothing else to do but look at the test results. Grabbing my purse, I slunk discreetly in to my bathroom, making sure that Lily wasn't awake yet. I closed the door softly and sat on the terry-cloth covered toilet lid. Searching through the bag, I found a lot of junk before I came across the test, upside-down. I held the cool plastic in my hands, eyes closed.

"Please God, please." I prayed. "Let it be negative." With my right hand I gripped the thin golden cross hanging from my neck, my left hand still holding the test. I opened my eyes and flipped it over. Slowly, meticulously, I read the screen. It was a digital test with words instead of a confusing key of colors and symbols. Still, that only seemed to make it all the more daunting. More permanent. It took four read-through-s and two inspections of the instructions until I finally came to terms with the results. Positive.

Quickly, tears began to sting at the edge of my eyes. Biting my lower lip, I tried to stop them, but it was impossible. Sinking to the floor, I pulled my knees to my chest and tried to hide my tears.

"Please let there be some mistake." I whispered; my voice cracking as I continued to grip the necklace and test. "Please, please, please." With each word my voice grew more and more uncontrollable, louder and louder.

When the bathroom door opened, I ignored it. I didn't bother to hide the test or my tears as I listened to the footsteps. They were light, much lighter than dad's or Jackson's. It could have only been one of two people, and both had the last name "Truscott". (Or used to.) But somehow, I didn't think it was Heather. She'd been very good at respecting my privacy, and she didn't normally get up this early.

Looking up, I found Lily hovering over me. Seeing my tears, she knelt next to me and put her arm around my shoulder. Squeezing my shoulders she whispered, "Let me see it," and began to wrestle the test out of my fist. "Miley," she whispered kindly, "I'm not going to know what's wrong until you let me see whatever you're holding." I gave up, dropping the offensive plastic into her hand and gripping my cross with both hands instead of one. "Oh, Miley." She sighed, wrapping her arms around me. "I hate to say I told ya-"

"Then don't!" I screamed, wiggling out of her grip. I was mad. How dare she blame this entirely on Owen? How dare she! It wasn't her place. She didn't know anything! It wasn't her place to point fingers and throw around blame. But still, when she didn't come over to comfort me, I was surprised.

"I'm sorry, Miley." She croaked, rubbing a hand down my back. "That's not what you need right now, and I should be more considerate. I'm also sorry about being so immature about Owen. I wasn't acting my age." She let in a shaky breath. "I think I blame myself for this. If I'd only told you. If I hadn't given you the silent treatment, maybe . . . maybe then you wouldn't be in the situation."

"Don't blame yourself." I muttered. "This isn't your fault Lils."

"It is!" she insisted, "however indirectly."

"Lil, it was my and Owen's bad decision. I shouldn't have drunk the punch and I shouldn't have said yes. I shouldn't have trusted myself. I should have called home the second," my voice cracked, "I smelled the alcohol. But I didn't . . ." my voice cracked again, "It's all my fault."

"No it's not." She assured me, giving me a tight hug. I didn't deny it.

Finally, I gained the courage to stop crying. I stood, walking over to the sink and running a washrag with cool water. Once it was soaked, I wrung it out and pressed it to my face, feeling the temperature difference between the cloth and my face, and loving it.

"So," Lily said, cautiously, "what are you going to. . . ya know, do . . . about this?"

Sighing, I looked at my face in the mirror before replying. "I don't know."

"Well, do you believe in abortion?" She asked.

"No way in hell." I answered quickly. "Even if I did, dad would never let me." Lily nodded.

"Well, if you're going to have the baby, you'll have to tell mom, and dad, and Owen."

"I know." I sighed, turning my back on the mirror. "Isn't there some other way?"

"The only thing I can think of is adoption." She answered. "But you'd still have to tell everyone. They'd still know." I nodded.

"Yeah, but Hannah can't have a baby. Hannah can't be tied down to feeding time and tired from being up all night. But I might be able to get a way with a couple months' break. Maybe, just maybe." I sighed. "This is too hard!"

"I know." Lily agreed, coming to stand beside me. We were silent for a moment before I turned to face the mirror again. Taking a couple steps back, I lifted my shirt up to my bra. Pinching to hold the edges the edges under my arm pits, I rubbed my still-flat stomach.

"Is there really a baby in there?" I wondered aloud. All I felt were my core muscles bubbling through, tight from high-energy concerts and work outs. Moving my hands to rest defiantly on my hips, I examined myself from every angle. Right now, any differences had to be internal, because I looked the exact same. And, as far as I knew, acted the same too. Suddenly, a thought struck me. "I haven't had any morning sickness yet."

"And that's a bad thing?" Lily asked, grinning a bit.

"What if it means things aren't right? What if something's wrong with the baby or something?" With that, Lily burst into a fit of giggles. "Stop laughing!" I insisted, hurt. "Why are my problems always funny to you?"

"It's not that." Lily assured me, trying to control her laughs. "It's just the irony. Five minutes ago you were regretting the baby and everything to do with it, and now you're worried that it's healthy. It's ironic!" I gave her a playful bonk on the head.

"You can laugh, you're not pregnant!" I whisper-screamed, but I still laughed with her. "I guess I'll have to get all this checked with a doctor." I sighed, coming back to reality.

"You have to tell mom and dad first." She insisted.

"What?"

"How are you going to get to the doctor's? Or make an appointment? Or make sure that you're doing everything right for the baby?" I sighed, knowing she was right. Slumping forward, I rolled my shirt back down and marched out of the bathroom and into my closet, inspecting the future choices. A lot of my clothes were form-fitting and would give me away immediately. I only had one of those tops that mimic maternity wear. The Hannah clothes were even worse, as most of them were actually designed to my exact shape. Oh God, what was I going to do about Hannah? Trying to think it through, I sat down on the little couch that we'd placed in the closet and rested my head in my hands, my elbows on my knees.

A minute later, Lily appeared in the doorway. "Wanna talk?" she asked.

"I just don't know what I'm going to do." I sighed, placing the detached mannequin head in my lap so that I could play with the wig's hair.

"I think you already said it, Miles." she replied, sitting next to me and taking a chunk of golden Hannah hair to braid. "You'll tell mom and dad, and the Okens. They might be mad at first, but they'll all calm down eventually. They'll have to. Everyone's going to tell you their opinion and their ideas. Once you start to show, you'll announce that Hannah's taking a vacation so you can focus on school and the baby. And when the time comes and everything's real, well, then you'll have to make the choice whether to keep the baby or put it up for adoption. But you'll have nine long months to do research and work everything out. And I know that when it comes down to crunch time, you'll make the right decision for you and Owen and the baby's sake."

"You make it sound so simple." I sighed, giving a half-hearted laugh. "When it's going to be so hard."

"It might be hard." She agreed. "But Miley, I've learned my lesson. I'm going to be here for you to talk to and bounce ideas off and scream at, whether Owen is or not. Because I want to earn back my title of best friend." She took in a shuddering breath as she wrapped her arms around me. "And if worst really does come to worst and you get kicked out, well, then I'll move in with you."

"You have no idea how much that means to me." I whispered. "And Lily, you're not my best friend, you're my sister. And being a sister is so, so much more than being a best friend."

**FALLING FAST**

Once our tears had faded and Lily had changed for the day, we clambered down stairs. When dad saw Lily and I with our arms around each other, he grinned.

"I'm glad you two are getting along again!" he exclaimed as we took our seats. We smiled, a little sadly, as we dug into the pancakes he shoved in front of each of us.

"Thanks dad." I muttered, digging into my breakfast.

"Your welcome." He replied, just as the washing machine went off. "I'll get that." He muttered, walking out of the room. The kitchen was empty, apart from us.

"Is America's favorite pop princess really so sweet?" asked a reporter on the television.

"They can't know yet." I muttered in horror. I only found out for myself this morning! I'm still stick thin! They can't suspect anything! That's impossible. Lily placed a comforting hand around my shoulder as we both watched in horror.

"New videos of pop queen Hannah Montana have been recently revealed. They involve her and an unnamed friend strutting around in tiny swimsuits and getting disturbingly close." She announced, her piercing eyes staring straight at me through the screen. "Here are some clips:" the screen changed to a rough video taken from a cell phone. I watched as it showed Traci and I posing and helping each other adjust our bathing suit straps. Hugging and pretending to be crazed fans. I winced as it got a close up of me whispering something in her ear, but the angle of the phone made it look more like we were kissing!

Suddenly, I could hear heavy foot falls coming into the room and switched channels to a station covering the latest bombings in Iraq. We went back to eating as dad entered the room, going on as if nothing had happened.

**Author's Note**

Sorry for the religious junk. Hope it didn't bother anyone, remember that I'm Jewish so I'm just trying to keep it in-character!

So I have a quick Q that I would REALLY appreciate ya'll answering:

I have an idea for a fic, and I want to know your opinion: Jackson is blackmailed into raping Lily at a high school party. She doesn't remember a thing, no one does until the doctor announces that she's pregnant three months later. But she still thinks she's a virgin and she's finally dating Oliver/Nick (tell me who you like better). But Jackson likes her. And Miley feels betrayed.

Whaddaya think?

12 days 'till the end of school!

I'm gonna be updating more often now because I only have 3 more chapters to finish! (yes, I'm way ahead, that's why most of my Author's Notes are old-sounding. Like this one I wrote right after spring break. That's mid-March! But it's better than being left out in the cold like my other fics are 'cause I'm so busy stufying for finals/dance team try-outs! Wish me luck! If I get on I'll post another chappie tomorrow! Better go practice my technique now! Bye!)


	12. My Lives Are Going Down Hill

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #11**

_My Lives Are Going Down Hill_

"_Please God, please." I prayed. "Let it be negative." With my right hand I gripped the thin golden cross hanging from my neck, my left hand still holding the test. I opened my eyes and flipped it over. Slowly, meticulously, I read the screen. It was a digital test with words instead of a confusing key of colors and symbols. Still, that only seemed to make it all the more daunting. More permanent. It took four read-throughs and two inspections of the instructions until I finally came to terms with the results. Positive._

**FALLING FAST**

"_Here are some clips:" the screen changed to a rough video taken from a cell phone. I watched as it showed Traci and I posing and helping each other adjust our bathing suit straps. Hugging and pretending to be crazed fans. I winced as it got a close up of me whispering something in her ear, but the angle of the phone made it look more like we were kissing! _

_Suddenly, I could hear heavy foot falls coming into the room and switched channels to a station covering the latest bombings in Iraq. We went back to eating as dad entered the room, going on as if nothing had happened._

**FALLING FAST**

I spent the rest of the day doing the homework I'd put off on Saturday for my party. And in between every worksheet, I tried to call Owen. But every time, every single time, it went straight to voicemail. Home phone or cell, I could never reach him. Even Oliver's cell went to voicemail, immediately! That boy never turned his cell off until now. I'd wanted to tell Owen before anyone else knew, especially my parents. Apparently, that didn't seem like it was going to happen as I'd also promised I'd tell mom and dad after dinner. And Lord knows that girl won't let anyone back out of a promise. "Better to be honest right off the bat." She said. Well, it wasn't her baby to be honest about.

Jackson had an extra late-shift at Rico's that night, so dinner was just me, Lily, and our parents. It was nice. We ordered pizza and ate like pigs, so no one noticed my slightly-increased appetite. It was all jokes and contests. Fun.

"Miley!" Dad called, his voice sounding stern. He'd retreated to the deck once our games were over. I helped Heather stuff the last of the boxes into the trash before running over to him. Well, I ran the first two steps, but after realizing my "delicate state" I just walked quickly. And as I closed the porch door, I saw Lily stifle a giggle at me. I stuck out my tongue at her before turning to talk to dad.

"Yes?" I asked innocently.

"Well, Emily Ramona," Oh no, my full name. That didn't bode well for anything, "I've been watching the news. And one of the most popular stories has to do with you and your friend Traci at the mall." I winced. "So you're familiar with it?" I nodded. "I want to hear your story about what happened." I was relieved, because I knew he would believe me. How could he not when I was only telling the truth?

"That was the day you let me off grounding early." I began, telling the complete truth. "She wanted me to help her pick out a bathing suit for a beach party later in the week. When I got there, it turned out that she had also picked out a couple for me. We pretended that the little hall between changing rooms was a runway. It was just the two of us having fun! We didn't do anything wrong dad, I swear." He nodded.

"I believe you." He said, "However, there's still going to be some punishment."

"What?" I screamed before I could stop myself. _Slow down. Think. Don't let your hormones get away with you. _ I told myself. "Why?" I asked, more calmly.

"Miley, you didn't technically do anything wrong, but you're getting older and you have to get more responsible. The paparazzi are vicious, we see examples of it everyday, and I can't always protect you from them. You have to be able to protect yourself. And I want to make sure you learn this good and early, because – with Vanessa as an example - people forgive things like this. But if we're not careful you could fall into a trap that's not so easily forgiven. I don't want you turning into one of the Spears girls, Miley."

Here it was, the perfect opportunity to tell him. Sighing, I spun around a chair from the wicker table on our porch and sat in it. I lift myself up to pull my legs under me, and lean against the chair's side. "I may be more like them then you think, dad." I mutter; I can't believe I'm saying this. But through the window over dad's head, I can see Lily giving me an encouraging thumbs-up.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

I drew in a deep, shaky breath. "I'm- It was-" I took a steadying breath. "This morning I found out that I was – am – pregnant."

"Oh God, Miley." He sighed, placing his head in his hands.

"I'm so, so sorry daddy." I promised, trying to bite back my tears. I needed to be strong this time, I didn't want sympathy, but I wanted him to understand how hard this was for me.

"Miley I-" he was looking straight ahead, and what was right in front of his face was my stomach, my t-shirt flying up in the breeze. He lifted his head so that he was looking me straight in the eye. "Were you raped?" he asked. "It's okay if you were, just tell me."

"Um . . ." how to explain? "I wasn't raped, but it wasn't exactly my idea, either. I was kind of . . . drunk. It was on Halloween." Dad nodded, and then sighed.

"I need to think. And I need to talk to Heather. Do your homework, and we'll call you up when we're ready to talk to you, okay?" I nodded solemnly, standing and walking away. Just as I was about to open the door to the house, he asked: "does Lily know?"

"Yeah, she's the one who convinced me to tell you today, before I convinced myself not to."

Dad smiled. "She's a smart girl, and she knows you well." Oh God, that stung. Lily was smart. Not that she isn't, but the way he said it . . . like she was a better daughter or something. How could she be a better daughter when she'd only been his STEP daughter for three months? I gave the door a slight slam as I stalked to the table, grabbed my bag and pulled out my homework.

"What's wrong?" Lily asked, confused, as I roughly rooted through my pencil case for my pink pen.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I snapped, grabbing the pen and yanking off the cap.

"Miley, what's wrong, what'd I do?" she asked. I ignored her, starting in on my world history homework. I made a line through an answer that I'd written early that I had just remembered was incorrect. The pen broke through my paper. I shoved it into the trash and grabbed a new sheet, ripping it in the process. I grabbed another. And another.

"Miley, what happened? Did you tell him?" Lily begged for an answer, handing me a clean, unripped sheet as she did so.

"Tell him what?" Heather asked from the couch. Dad hadn't come in yet, he was still sitting out there, staring into the ocean.

"Why don't you go ask him?" I suggested nastily. She glared at me, but left, closing the door behind her. I took the paper Lily had offered to me and threw it to the ground. Somehow, watching the falling paper made tears creep behind my eyes. One fell, and then another. Soon my eyeballs had turned into waterfalls as I tried to control myself.

"Shhh." Lily whispered, reaching out to me across the table. "Everything's going to be fine." She assured me.

"Easy for you to say." I whispered, not maliciously. "You're the favorite."

"What?"

"Yeah, dad just said that you were smarter." I cried.

"He's just upset, Miley." She assured me. "You're the one in honors, you're the one who can handle two completely separate lives at once."

"That's the thing." I sobbed. "He wasn't even mad. Well, he was, but he wasn't raging and storming. He was pretty damn calm, actually." Lily walked around the table and hugged me, before leading me over to the couch. She fed me tissues for ten whole minutes and listened to my blubbering.

**FALLING FAST**

"Hormones are deadly." I muttered later, during a commercial break.

"No." Lily disagreed, "they aren't. But the mood swings that they cause are." We both started to laugh, and neither of us noticed dad and Heather coming inside until they were sitting in the living room with us. Dad turned off the television.

"Lily, hunny, why don't you go upstairs?" Heather suggested rhetorically.

"But I want to be here with Miley." she said defiantly.

"Lily, we need to ta-"

"Please, Heather?" I begged. "I want her to stay." Heather sighed, but nodded. Lily smiled and gripped my hand, letting me know that she was there in case I needed her.

"First of all, do you want to keep this baby?" he asked. "Abortion isn't an option, but adoption . . . it is. We can understand why you'd choose it."

"I don't . . . I'm not sure." I answered. "I never considered abortion, but I don't really know if I'd be able to give up my baby for adoption. I just . . . I don't know yet."

"That's okay." Heather assured me kindly, "you have a long time to decide, and I'll help you." Of course, Heather used to work in adoption. She'd know everything.

"Now as for punishment." Dad said, anxious to get it over with. He didn't like being the bad guy. "You can consider yourself indefinitely grounded." I knew that was coming. "Unless Heather or I is with you, you can't leave our property. However, you can go down to the beach area visible from our house. But just out there, and someone else has to be home with you." I nodded. "Owen is completely forbidden unless he's at our house, in this front area, under our approval. Or, of course, at school." Again, I nodded. But still, I felt a tear stinging in the corner of my eye. I'd expected this, and I knew not to rebel, but it still hurt.

"This is all Miley punishment." He continued. "Hannah, however, is another story. You can disappear forever, announce a vacation, or tell the world. It's your choice, and we need the answer now."

"I'll take a vacation from Hannah." I answered firmly. "Once I start showing." He nodded.

"But time as Hannah is limited, Miley. Just for concerts and parties that I'm at. And absolutely no Traci, that girl is bad news."

"But dad, she's my friend!" I defended.

"Miley, she took that video and she gave it to the press. You are not allowed near her, do you understand me?"

"Yes." I squeaked, bowing my head in frustration.

"Alright then," Heather said calmly. "I'll make you an appointment for as soon as possible. While I'm out at work tomorrow, I'll grab some prenatal vitamins, stretch mark crème, and a couple of books. Maybe there will be some classes or groups available or something." She sighed, "Miley, do you have any questions about what's happening to you? I know adults skim over facts when they teach sex and pregnancy to kids. Anything you want to ask, don't be afraid."

"I do have one question." I began, laying a hand on my stomach. "I haven't been throwing up or nauseas or anything. Is that . . . bad?" She chuckled softly.

"You're lucky." She answered. "No, people don't always get morning sickness, Miles. You're just lucky, in that respect. However, I think you're getting a good kick of mood swings already."

"I am?" I asked.

"When you snapped at Lily." She offered as an example. "You don't normally snap at anyone, Miley. But you've been doing that a lot more for the past week or so."

"Sorry." I muttered, turning red.

"It's not your fault," she assured me, "just remember it when someone's bugging you, okay?" I nodded.

"I have another question." I asked. Heather nodded encouragingly and Lily gave my hand a squeeze. "When will I start to . . . you know . . . show?"

Heather chuckled before replying. "You're a little over a month right?" she asked, I nodded. "You might have two months of not showing, and two more where you can hide it. I'd say people will really start to notice when you're at the end of your fifth month. But every pregnancy's different, and you're so thin, you could start showing a little bit in only a couple weeks." I groaned, leaning back against the couch. Only a couple weeks? I'd been planning on at least a month! She and dad laughed at my aggravation. "Alright hun, I hope we weren't too harsh on you. Remember, whenever we seem mean, we're just trying to do what's right."

"She's right." Dad agreed. "However bad the decision leading to this situation was, I'm glad you were honest with me from the beginning. I love you."

"I love you too." I muttered.

"It's getting late." Heather commented, standing. "And staying up really isn't the best idea for you, missy." She smiled. "Go to bed, okay?" I nodded, and Lily and I stood. Before I could leave, dad and Heather gave each of us a big hug.

**FALLING FAST**

Despite the stress of the day, I went to bed easily that night. However, I did wake up once before it was morning. It wasn't morning sickness. It was my dad.

He stood in the doorway, framed with light. I could just make out his outline through my squinted eyes. He didn't know I was awake, so I left my covers where they'd fallen at my ankles (which is probably why I'd woken). He walked towards me and knelt next to my bed. Slowly, careful not to 'wake' me, he placed his warm hand against my stomach. "I love you." He whispered, pulling the hand back. He quietly brought the covers up to my chin. He kissed the top of my forehead lightly. "I love both you." He whispered, tiptoeing quietly from the room.

**Author's Note**

Sorry about the two last-chapter flashbacks, but I felt it was important considering how much had happened.

Please read my addition to the tagging game!


	13. Butterflies and Beating Up People

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #12**

_Butterflies and Beating People Up_

_Dad stood in the doorway, framed with light. I could just make out his outline through my squinted eyes. He didn't know I was awake, so I left my covers where they'd fallen at my ankles (which is probably why I'd woken). He walked towards me and knelt next to my bed. Slowly, careful not to 'wake' me, he placed his warm hand against my stomach. "I love you." He whispered, pulling the hand back. He quietly brought the covers up to my chin. He kissed the top of my forehead lightly. "I love both you." He whispered, tiptoeing quietly from the room._

**FALLING FAST**

The next morning Lily and I woke up to the sound of our alarm clock; it was a school day. Not just any school, mind you, a Monday. Yuck. Slowly, I dragged myself out of bed to take a quick shower and get dressed. Somehow, when Lily had moved in, I'd gotten stuck with the morning shower and Lily with the night-time one. There just wasn't time for both of us to take a shower in the morning unless someone woke up extremely early. As it was, I got the short end of the stick. When my alarm went off Lily could either stay asleep for ten more minutes, or take the time to really look nice. Lucky her. Finally, after a quick fight over the mirror and a mention about not having enough sink space we trekked downstairs.

As we reached the last stair Jackson came into view. He was sitting at the kitchen table, facing us. His right hand was caught, midway to mouth and dripping syrup, as he stared me up and down, raking across my body from head to toe. Finally, his gaze settled on my stomach. I halted, stopping Lily in my wake. I found dad's eyes, and he gave me a small nod before turning back to making his pancakes. Sighing, I hunched over to my seat and sat, making it impossible for Jackson to stare at my not-yet-bumped-up tummy.

"Here ya go." Dad said, sliding one plate full of pancakes in front of me, another in front of Lily. I began to cut my pancakes, still aware of Jackson's unwavering stare. Sighing, I put down my knife and fork.

"What?" I growled, returning Jackson's glare. He shook his head, returning to sane-ville.

"Nothing." He muttered, eating his waffle-piece.

"It's not nothing if you were staring at me for ten minutes straight! Now I'm your sister, so I know you're not examining the size of my chest or butt, and you've never commented on my make up and hairstyle before. What the heck were you so interested in?" I finished my small rant and sat smugly in my chair, cutting my pancake with sharp precision. Still, Jackson didn't respond. "Jackson!"

"Miley, don't." dad warned. "You have to be understanding, give people time to get used to a concept."

"It's me who has to live with it." I grumbled, but I ignored Jackson through breakfast and the entire car-ride to school. In fact, no one said much of anything until we arrived in the school parking lot.

**FALLING FAST**

When Lily and I got out of the car we started to head off into the building together before I heard Jackson call my name.

"What?" I asked, coming to a screeching halt and turn around on my heels, my hand on my hip.

"I want to talk to you." He announced bluntly, slamming his car door. "Privately." He added, eyeing Lily.

I didn't have the energy to put off the conversation, so I nodded and sent Lily in, asking her to tell Owen that I was delayed, but coming. Jackson jumped onto the hood of his car, leaning against the window.

"So, what's this little chat gonna be about?" I asked sarcastically, sauntering up to him. He patted the hood-space next to him. Sighing, I clambered up and sat next to him, knees to chest, head resting on my kneecaps.

"Miley, how did this happen?" he asked quietly.

"You know how it happened." I groaned. "Pretty much the way they tell you in F.L.E., except less planned and more drunkenness."

"I don't mean that." Jackson stopped me, "I mean whose idea was it?"

"Don't go there."

"I want to know whether I can beat Owen to a bloody pulp or just knock him out."

"Jackson don't." I moaned. "Please?"

"So it is his fault."

"No!" I screamed sternly. "No, it is not. Jackson we were both drunk. I agreed. It was my decision. I had a choice; I obviously didn't make the right one. Drop it, okay?"

"You agreed. So it was his idea?"

"Jackson!" I screeched. "Just shut it!"

"Consider my mouth shut." He answered, pretending to lock his lips and throw away the key.

"Good. Thanks. Bye." I said shortly, jumped off the hood – bad idea – and walked into the school. By the time I'd switched out my books and found my first period's homework, the warning bell was ringing and I didn't have time to find Owen. Oh well, I'd see him in art class anyways.

**FALLING FAST**

It seemed to take forever for art class to come. Each class was ten times more boring, each teacher on the radar for students not paying attention, and I got fried. It was a relief to sit on my wooden stool and just draw - to just make art from my own mind instead of doing what other expected of me. I was so relieved; I didn't notice that Owen was late. Sure enough, he came in two minutes after the bell, a nurse's pass in hand.

Everyone gawked at him, and even I couldn't help but find it hard not to stare. He was pretty badly beaten up, especially for such a big guy. His left eyes had a scary-looking black-and-blue mark blooming, and a less-serious looking one was on his right eye. The way he talked, his jaw seemed sore and uncomfortable. He limped to his seat, battered and bruised, and began his art project.

"Alright." The teacher announced, recalling our attention. "This new project's requirements are on the board. May I state that, no exceptions, it must start on a flat surface and it must become 3-D. Now, scurry off to your corners my little protégé's." I grabbed a strip of red construction paper and turned to face Owen.

"What happened?" I whispered. It wasn't that we weren't supposed to be talking, but I didn't want to make Owen announce whatever had happened to the world if he didn't want to.

"Nothing."

"Something happened."

"Before I tell you, I just have one question."

"What?" I asked, grabbing a glue bottle.

"What the hell does your brother have against me?" he asked, looking me straight in the eye. I shuddered under his gaze, and turned my eyes to my own project.

"Um, well . . . he's kind of . . ." I searched for the right words as my stomach churned under the prospect of tell him what had happened, ". . . mad about something we . . . did."

"What?" Owen asked, genuinely confused.

"Owen, I . . . I don't know how to tell you, I-" but I couldn't finish. Instead, I vomited all over my project. All eyes turned to me as my lunch emptied onto the table. Everyone seemed frozen as I clutched my stomach and wiped away the last bit of vomit. I gave a small, sad moan before the teacher snapped back into action.

"Jake, can you help Miley to the clinic?" she asked. He nodded, taking my elbow gingerly and leading me out of the room. He'd been chosen because his sprained right wrist (which got him pity from most girls and teachers) was stopping him from "producing a masterpiece". Instead, he got stuck with any alternate assignment our teacher cooked up. Right now, it was guiding me to the nurse's.

"Miley, I-"

"Save it Jake." I sighed, "I'm not in the mood." He nodded, and our walk was silent. He dropped me off before bolting for the room, trying to escape awkward-ness as fast as humanly possible. Soon, I'd gotten everything sorted out with the nurse. She was sending me home. She told me that I needed a note from my OBGYN proclaiming that it was morning sickness before she could let me stay, which was fine by me. So today, Heather was picking me up early to go on a couple errands and than that all-important doctor's appointment.

**FALLING FAST**

"Which do you like better?" Heather asked, holding up to anti-stretch mark crèmes. One was a bright pink tube showing an African American woman holding up a very pregnant stomach, the other was blue and white tub and showed a pregnant woman's outline.

"I don't know." I answered, sighing. "I don't know the difference."

"This one, then." She declared, throwing it into the basket I was carrying. The basket was full of things that certainly weren't going to help Lily and my bathroom storage space issue. Well, we'd just have to deal, because I apparently couldn't survive without all of it.

"Is that it?" I asked, holding the heavy red basket.

"Lily asked me to grab her some tampons and then yeah, we're done."

"Good." I sighed, stalking over to the feminine hygiene aisle.

"Do you know what she likes better?" Heather asked. I observed the familiar packages holding different sizes, shapes, colors, and promises.

"Last time I borrowed from her she had those." I answered, nodding toward a pack of Tampax. "but sometimes I see wrappers for those in the trash." I told her, pointing at Kotex.

"We'll get both." Heather sighed, placing two boxes into the basket. "Let's go checkout."

It took a while to get to the front of the line, and by the time we'd dragged the bags to the car, we were going to be late for my appointment. But it didn't matter anyways. Doctors are notorious for taking forever.

**FALLING FAST**

While we were waiting, my cell rang.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Miles? It's Owen." Of course it was. I checked my watch; he'd have just gotten out of detention. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." I answered truthfully. Well, my stomach was fine. That was probably a mix of nerves and morning sickness. However, I didn't feel so fine talking to him.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No, no I'm good." I assured him.

"So. . . uh" he fumbled, "not to sound insensitive, but what were you about to tell me?"

"I can't tell you." I answered, fiddling with my watch.

"You were just about to before you puked." He protested.

"Yeah, but this really isn't an on-the-phone kind of thing."

"I don't care what kind of thing this is; I just want to know why your brother gave me two black eyes."

I sighed, "You really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Fine." I grumbled. "Owen, I'm . . . " I glanced at Heather, and all the other people in the room, listening in on my conversation. "I'm pregnant." The line was silent. "Owen?"

"Miley Stewart?" asked a too-happy nurse holding a clipboard.

"Owen, I have to go now. Goodbye." I shut my phone, wishing he'd call back and tell me something. Some bit of his reaction, his feelings. I'd rather he be mad then not telling me how he felt. But instead, the nurse led me into a small room with Heather.

**FALLING FAST**

When we left Owen still hadn't called. When we got home, he hadn't called my cell phone or my home phone. After dinner I got anxious and jumpy. When dad asked me to hand him the clicker, I jumped.

"Go call him, honey." He ordered, muting the volume.

"Really?" I asked gratefully.

"Really." He answered. "Can't have you jumped all over the place."

"Thanks!" I answered, grabbing the receiver and dialing Owen's number.

"Hello?" asked the too-sweet voice of his mother.

"Hi, Mrs. Oken? This is Miley, I was wondering if I could talk to Owen." I asked politely, my 'southern charm' only adding to my innocent act. Well, it worked.

"Sure dear, just give me a quick second." She answered. A moment later Owen crackled onto the line.

"Miley?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Miley, I'm sorry. Sorry I didn't say anything before. This is all my fault and your brother had a right to beat me up. God, I'm such a jerk. I've completely ruined our futures on a stupid impulse. We are keeping it right? 'Cause I'll be there with you, all the way. I love you Miley, and I want you to have this baby. God, I'm such an asshole. It's your decision, it's your body. But I really do want this. Whatever you decided, I'll support, though. I'll always support you. You know that, right?" He ranted; I let him continue on until I could hardly stand it.

"Owen!" I shouted across his rant. "Owen, I'm so glad you'll be here for me, but you don't have to keep saying all those things. I believe you. I'm keeping the baby, and it's not all your fault I'm pregnant. I was part of the decision making, too. It's our fault, our responsibility, and our baby, okay?"

"Okay." He sighed. For a second I heard his mom yelling something. "Gotta go." He told me, and the line clicked dead. Well, at least I knew he'd support me.

**Author's Note**

So I tried to make this chapter longer. I hoped you liked it! Now that I'm out of school and most of the chapters are finished I'll be updating faster! Like today, Tues., Wed., Thurs., and Fri. I'm updating! After that it may be every couple of days, though. Happy Summer!

Two really good books for you people to read: Side Effects, and Plain Truth. Side Effects is about an 8th grader with cancer. It's a quick read and promises a happy ending from the beginning. Plain Truth is more adult, it's about an Amish girl who had a baby out of wedlock and is convicted of murdering that baby. It's a great story and I love the author, Jodi Picoult. Also really good is her book My Sister's Keeper, which is about a girl who was born specifically to be donor for her sister who has cancer. Now she's older and refusing to go through with it. Read, read, read! Also good is Twilight, just truly amazing. And Peeps. And Someone Like You. All amazing books!


	14. This Christmas

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #13**

_This Christmas_

"_Owen!" I shouted across his rant. "Owen, I'm so glad you'll be here for me, but you don't have to keep saying all those things. I believe you. I'm keeping the baby, and it's not all your fault I'm pregnant. I was part of the decision making, too. It's our fault, our responsibility, and our baby, okay?"_

"_Okay." He sighed. For a second I heard his mom yelling something. "Gotta go." He told me, and the line clicked dead. Well, at least I knew he'd support me._

**FALLING FAST**

On December Twenty-fifth I woke up at six a.m.

Sure, I could take advantage of the school holiday, if it wasn't for the little person inside of me insisting on me puking at six freaking a.m.! So instead, I puked my guts out (which woke Lily up too) and we both meandered downstairs to wait for everyone else. I set up our cereal bowls, placed them on a tray, and brought it over in front of the television while Lily popped in "The Holiday". We'd watched the movie so many times that we had our very own inside jokes about every single line, and we spent the whole time laughing like crazy. I guess that's how we woke everyone else up to. Jackson wandered down only ten minutes in, dad and Heather came in closer to the end.

"Presents time?" Jackson suggested eagerly. Sometimes I think that boy is seven, not seventeen! But dad nodded, and we all ran for our gifts. It took us a while to rip through our respective piles, but when we were done dad had pancakes and eggs waiting for each of us.

"Did you like your gifts?" he asked as we dug in.

"Yeah, I love mine." I answered, almost more eager to eat than Jackson was – hey, I'm eating for two! "I just wish this morning hadn't started with puking!"

"It'll get better." Dad assured me, and I nodded, continuing to shovel food in.

"Well I just love my new stuff!" Jackson exclaimed proudly. I shook my head, that boy had enough junk to make his room into a wading pool of junk!

"You know you have to clean out your room?" dad asked rhetorically.

"Yeah, yeah." Jackson waved him off, trying not to dwell on that.

"Do you like what you got?" he asked Lily. She nodded.

"I love Christmas." She answered, smiling. "Especially with my new family." Suddenly, she gave me a huge hug that completely knocked the wind out of me. I hugged her back just as hard, smiling.

"Aww." Heather laughed. "Finally, you two are acting like sisters again."

**FALLING FAST**

One of my presents had been a small get-started-knitting set. Lily was given a similar one too. After lunch, Heather put her mind to teaching us how to knit. It didn't sound like that good of an idea to me, but to each there own.

"So you hold the yarn like this." She showed me, holding up a complicated-looking weave between three finger, "so that you can start." Pulling a good two feet out of my pink yarn, I tried to copy her weave, but failed.

"You've got it right." She assured me, holding up my left fist, "just hold the yarn tighter. You always want to hold it tight. The looser it is, the harder it is, okay?" I nodded and pulled and the yarn, tightening my fist at the same time. I felt a sad pang of memory, when I had been six my mom had tried to teach me knitting, and I'd had the same exact problem. I was disheartened by the memory, but tried to listen as Heather explained the next step.

"Now weave both your needles together through like this." She demonstrated, her bamboo needles jumping and diving through the yarn strands. I sighed, this was impossible. "Come on Miley." She urged. I looked up and held the yarn taught in one hand, the other clenching my needles. Slowly, I mimicked her. "Good." She told me. "Pull it tight." I pulled, and the yarn untwisted. Just as it had so many years ago. I felt unstoppable tears creep into my eyes; I was a failure at something dominated by my own gender! Angry and sad, I threw down the project and bolted upstairs. Burying myself in blankets and pillow, I clung to Beary. Tears stained his curly brown fur as I tried to wipe them away, and failed. A minute later Lily trotted into the room.

"Hey." She whispered, leaning next to me. She placed her elbows on my mattress, head in her hands. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I answered, flopping to the other side of the bed.

"Something's wrong." She contradicted. She lifted the covers up and next to me, her back propped up by pillows. Still, I ignored her, edging away from the center. "Miley please tell me." she begged.

"I miss my mom." I mumbled.

"What?" she asked softly, leaning over.

"I miss my mom, okay?" I answered, "Once she tried to teach me how to knit. I made the same exact mistakes then as I did today. I just miss her. We used to spend Christmas together in pajamas, all four of us. We wouldn't do anything all day, it was great." Tears floated down my cheek. "But that last Christmas, she had to be in the hospital for treatment. It was so, so sucky not seeing her all day. It was the first time I really considered what it would be like without her. And look where I am now. I don't have a mother, but I'm gonna be one at fifteen! Fifteen Lily! Some people wait until they're thirty! I'm not even half that! How am I gonna be as good a parent as a thirty-year old?"

"Just because you're not as old as most mothers doesn't mean you won't be as good!" she insisted. "Most kids have two parents to watch them. Your kid will have two parents, four grandparents, and three aunts and uncles around all the time. That's so much more love and attention than two stinkin' parents." We were silent for a minute. "And as for your mom. Miley, I never met her, but I know she's watching you from Heaven. And she's just got to be smiling when she sees you adjusting and learning. I know my mom always tells me how happy it makes her when I learn how to do something better. Yours is doing the same, just from a little farther away."

"You're right." I whispered, wiping away my tears and giving Lily a hug. 'Thanks Lil."

"No problem." She answered. Suddenly, the door opened.

"You okay Mile?" Dad asked hesitantly.

"I'll be fine." I answered with a smile.

"Good, 'cause it's time to get ready for your last show."

That's right. Tonight was my final show as Hannah, at least for a while.

"Thanks for reminding me." he nodded and left Lily and I to go through outfits in the Hannah/Lola closet.

**FALLING FAST**

"Thank you L.A.!" I called, jumping in the air as the crowd roared. "Now, this is gonna be my final concert for a year, okay?" they groaned in unison. "Don't groan!" I insisted, "I just want to take a little vacation. You guys don't want me to be the next Lindsay, do you?" They cheered again. "Alight guys. This is my last song of the night, and I hope you can sing it with me." Cheers erupted as I turned my back to the audience for the start of the dance.

**FALLING FAST**

The limo ride home that night was nearly silent.

"It was a great show darlin'." Dad said, giving me a quick squeeze.

"You were amazin'." Lily agreed.

"Spectacular." Heather corrected.

"You were okay." Jackson allowed, making me laugh and punch him. "Hey!" he laughed. "That was a compliment."

"Such a gentleman." I snickered, turning to look out the window. It had been an okay Christmas.

**Author's Note**

Yay! Christmas in June!


	15. The Fear of Pain

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #14**

_The Fear of Pain_

"_It was a great show darlin'." Dad said, giving me a quick squeeze._

"_You were amazin'." Lily agreed._

"_Spectacular." Heather corrected._

"_You were okay." Jackson allowed, making me laugh and punch him. "Hey!" he laughed. "That was a compliment."_

"_Such a gentleman." I snickered, turning to look out the window. It had been an okay Christmas._

**FALLING FAST**

What is the square root of 24? More important, why do I even care? Why did I leave my homework to the last two days of winter break? Why did dad and Heather let me leave my homework? Sighing, I whipped out my calculator.

"Miley!" Heather called from upstairs.

"Yeah?" I answered, scribbling my answer.

"Could you come up here for a minute?"

"Sure." I answered, abandoning the homework and running upstairs. Anything to escape the evils of algebra.

"How're you feeling?" she asked, gesturing for me to sit beside her. I did so, taking in the room. It was our rec room, a semi-open room with a large television, computer, and bookshelves of games, books, and music. We were sitting on an old, large couch opposite the HDtv dad had proudly bought on sale right before Christmas.

"Fine." I answered, trying to smile.

"Do you have time to . . . do something with me?" she asked, fingering the DVD remote control.

"Anything to escape homework."

"Good." She sighed, not seeming all that happy about my answer. "Miley, you're a really strong person, but I wanted to give you fair warning about something . . . it wouldn't be fair to let you go through this without some knowledge, and this is as close to hands-on that I can get, so . . . yeah."

"What?" I asked. What was she talking about?

"You've probably heard that childbirth is pretty painful. But you can never really prepare for it. And I wanted to show you what it's like so you can make a real decision. We can talk about it and read books, but I think these are really powerful in decision-making. I know that if I'd had warning, I might have made a different decision." She cleared her throat, gesturing to two tapes and one dvd. "The dvd I ordered for you. It explains what's going on and all your options. It's fairly graphic, but you have a right to understand. The other two are your and Jackson's birth videos. From what your father's told me, the two experiences were very different and I think you should see both, so you can understand. As he told me, Jackson was born at home." I nodded, my parents had been only twenty when Jackson was born, and they'd decided to take a couple of midwife classes and do it all themselves. In the end, mom had been brought to the hospital after the birth because of bleeding, but everything had ended fine. "Yours was in a hospital, with medication." That, too, I knew. Dad always used to tell us that mom had been so drugged up that she laughed when I popped out. I guess I was about to see if that was true. "What do you want to see first?" she asked.

"The dvd." I answered. It would be better not to having the screaming woman that had been my mother appearing at all, I could at least save it for last.

"Alright then." She popped it in. "But if anything bothers you, or you want to ask me a question, just pause the video, okay?" I nodded, taking the control from her. She set up the video and sat back on the couch beside me. Like any daughter with their mother, I snuggled in beside her, scared of what I would see.

**FALLING FAST**

The entire movie was scary and graphic. A shiver went down my spine just thinking about it! Some of the things they might have to do were so . . . gory. That's the only word I can think of to describe it! Gory. Yuck. Luckily, any screams were covered up by the narrator, but you could still see their faces! I don't know how anyone could go through that pain – let alone going through it myself!

"Are you okay?" Heather asked as a shiver did run down my spine.

"I – I think so." I answered, gripping my stomach protectively. "Can't I just not give birth at all?"

"I know it's scary, hun." She told me, "but it's so, so worth it."

"How can anything be worth that?" I doubted her reasoning.

"I'm going to put in the next tape now." She told me, getting up. I let her, I was too afraid to move! "Come on, you have to watch." She ordered, gesturing at the screen. Reluctantly, I turned to face it with a big sigh.

A close up of mom's face appeared on the screen.

"Robbie Ray get that outa my face!" she ordered, turning away from the camera.

"Sorry Darlin'." He answered as the shaky camera zoomed out. "So can you tell the kind audience what's going on."

"I'm in labor, and it hurts." She grunted, not bothering to look at the camera.

"Great summary." Dad said sarcastically. "It's April 3rd, 1990 around . . . seven a.m. and my lovely wife has been in labor for nearly nine hours. Please excuse the fact that she is camera shy."

"I am not!"

"Are to!"

"Am not!"

"Are to!"

"Am n-owwwwwww." She broke into a loud moan, clutching her sides. Suddenly, the camera was steadied as it was placed on a tripod. Dad appeared on the screen, offering mom his hands to hold. She took them, and it seemed like she was trying to snap his fingers in half in her vice like grip. He whispered to her, too quiet for the camera to hear, and she nodded, taking a deep breath. "I. . ." she said shakily at the contraction's end. "I think I need to . . . push."

"Are you sure?" dad asked anxiously.

"Pretty sure." She answered. Suddenly, the screen turned blank. A couple seconds later the camera turned on again. This time, the camera was on one side of the bed that mom was in the middle of. She was lying back on a couple pillows, her knees bent and as far apart as she could muster. Dad was organizing a little pile of equipment, preparing to catch the baby that would be my brother.

"So." He narrated, looking at the camera. "It's nearly eight thirty now. Susannah's been pushing for more than an hour now and we can finally see the head. I think that's it, right?"

"Right." Mom answered weakly, brushing the sweat off her brow with a small towel.

"Just tell me when you're ready, hun." Dad ordered. Mom nodded and a minute later she was groaning and moaning. "Great job, great job." Dad encouraged her. "Another one!" he ordered as she sat back on her pillows.

"Give me a minute." She ordered, looking like she was having trouble catching her breath.

"You don't have a minute, you have to do this now." He told her sharply.

She let out a loud scream of fury and began to push again. "Oh God, this is hell." She moaned. "Oh God, Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God." She moaned, her voice getting higher and faster with each utterance.

"Doing great, darling." Dad assured her. "Head's almost out."

"Just the head!" she screeched.

"Just the head." He confirmed. She began to moan again, and two minutes later a squirmy little baby was in her arms. How could something so nice come from so much pain? How could anyone endure that? I gripped my legs close to my chest, trying to hide my face as Heather turned off the video.

"It's okay." She told me. "It's okay to be scared, it's normal, in fact. But everything's going to be fine." I let her hold me as tears poured down my face.

"It looks like it hurt so much." I told her, sobbing hysterically.

"It does." She told me, "I'm not going to sugar-coat it. But it's just so worth it. Believe me, it just is." I didn't – couldn't – answer as my tears came faster and faster. "And you can take pain meds, Miley. You can even get a C-Section."

"I'm just so . . . so . . . so scared!"

"I know hunny." She whispered, rubbing my back. "But it's all going to work out, I promise."

"How do you know?" I questions, doubting her words.

"Because I'm a mother. I know these things." I sighed, collapsing against the couch.

**Author's Note**

Hope that wasn't too much for anyone. Read & Review!

So NOW I am DEFFINITLEY more than half-way. The plan includes 25 chapters (including the epilogue, excluding the trailer) and this is the 14th! Yay! (56 of the way.) I mean . . . Boo! Add More Chapters! (lol)

Just won my first dance competition this year – GOLD in jr. small-group jazz! Woot! (we were in the wrong age and group size b/c of what kind of team we are.)

Wow, this was written back in March!


	16. Why, Why, Why, Why Me?

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**IMPORTANT**

Remember, this story is now forking off. Falling Fast A & B will now have separate chapters. And story lines.

**Chapter #15**

_Why, Why, Why, Why Me?_

"_I'm just so . . . so . . . so scared!"_

"_I know hunny." She whispered, rubbing my back. "But it's all going to work out, I promise."_

"_How do you know?" I questions, doubting her words._

"_Because I'm a mother. I know these things." I sighed, collapsing against the couch._

**FALLING FAST**

I sighed pathetically, lugging my heavy World History binder and textbook out of my overflowing back pack and taking a seat in study hall. It was two days until midterms, and I hadn't studied at all. Pathetically, I took out the midterm schedule to see what I should be studying. Tomorrow was English, and I was good enough at that. But I hadn't studied for Algebra or Bio, which were in three days. And I needed to study for each. How could anyone remember that many formulas? Or that many bones? It's not like there's some good pneumonic or song or something! That would be so helpful right about now! But I turned to my text book instead, trying to remember a single fact about Cro Magnons and Homo Sapiens.

As I read the book I unknowingly rubbed my stomach. I was just three months today, and I'd started showing a little bit two weeks ago. However, most of the school knew because they'd heard about the fight between Owen and Jackson.

"So Miley." Amber said, looking disgusted. She took in my baggy Seaview sweatshirt with a look of distaste I'd never seen before. "Looks like you're all knocked up."

"Looks that way." I agreed, not even looking up from my studies. If I ignored them maybe, just maybe, they'd go away.

"Bet it was you're idea." She added.

"Skank." Ashley muttered, crossing her arms. Still, I tried to focus on my book. My hand that was under the table was clenched in fury, and I knew I could only handle that much self-control for so much longer.

"Slut." Amber added. That was it. That was the last stinkin' straw. They had no right to criticize me. This torment had been going on far too long now. I wasn't going to just let them run all over me. I was going to stand up for myself until they threw me out of school. Go ahead, what do I care? Dad promised to start home schooling me any time I want anyways.

"Say that to my face." I ordered, finally looking them in the eyes.

Amber knelt forward, placing her elbows on the table so our faces were mere inches apart. "You, Miley Stewart, are a slut." She pronounced each syllable with force and vigor. Angered, I gave her a loud smack across her face. "Oww!" she cried, holding the offended skin. "That hurt!" big fat baby tears were cascading down her cheeks as she put on an over-the-top show for all her loyal subject. Lucky for me, the teacher was out of the room. "Mrs. Wheeler!" she shrieked. Our teacher came dashing into the room. Rolling her eyes when she saw it was Amber, she sighed and asked, "Yes, Miss Addison?"

"Miley slapped me!" she accused, pointing an accusative finger at me. I wished I could bite it.

"I highly doubt that." She answered.

"I saw her!" Ashley vouched.

"Miss Stewart, did you hit Miss Addison?" she questioned.

"I slapped her." I answered innocently, "but she called me a slut and a skank! It was provoked!"

"Miss Addison, were you provoking Miss Stewart?"

"No." she answered quickly. Two seconds later she added a guilty, "It was all true."

"Whether it's true or now, were you provoking her?" Amber nodded solemnly. "Alright you two; apologize and go back to your seats. If I hear anything from either of you two, I will give you detention without a second thought, do you hear me?"

"Yes Mrs. Wheeler." We both chimed.

"Sorry Amber." I whispered, turning back to my book.

"I'm sorry you're a slut too, Miley." She said snidely as she passed my desk. Quick as I could, I grabbed her wrist, drilling my fingers into the soft over-moisturized flesh.

"Owwwww!" Amber squealed, gripping just above my hand in pain, "oowwww ow ow!" I let go, flipping the page of my book and continuing to study. The teacher ignored our debacle as Amber and Ashley took their assigned seats at a lab table to my back left.

"Stupid slut." I heard Ashley mutter. I turned the next page with too much energy and it ripped a little.

"Skank."

"Slut."

"Stupid."

"Freak."

While tweedle dumb and tweedle dee called me every name in the book, I tried to memorize early skeleton discoveries. Suddenly a pink, well-folded note landed on top of the page I was reading. I grabbed it, crumpled it, and showily stalked off to throw it into the trashcan. When I returned, the twin devils were smiling evilly. I looked down. The page of my book was covered by a loose-leaf page. There were two rough sketches on the page. The first was of a fat pregnant woman, holding her hands on her lower back and arching backwards to try and lift her belly higher. On the belly was a drawing of a green alien's face. The other sketch was of a cow, so over-pregnant that its feet didn't reach the ground. It was wearing a wig of curly, brown hair and a cowboy hat. A little speech-bubble appeared by its head. "I'm not a slut ya'll." It said in capital letters. "LOL" was written again and again across the bottom. Two fancy A's had also been signed in the top left corner.

Angered, I grabbed the paper and walked towards our teacher's desk. Amber and Ashley burst into hysterics as tears began to roll down my cheeks.

"What's the problem, Miss Stewart?" she asked tiredly. I thrust the paper into her hands. Suddenly, the laughter behind me was silenced.

"Oh my." She gasped. "Who drew this?"

"Amber and Ashley." I answered.

"Miss Addison? Miss Jou? Would you please come to my desk?" she asked. The two girls slinked forward slowly. "Fast now, I haven't got all day." They sped up as the entire class cat-called. "That's enough!" she screamed over them. "Back to your silent readings, please." She turned to our little group of three. "Follow me into the hallway." She ordered. We followed. "Now, what is the meaning of this?" she asked, holding up the paper for each of us to see. Tears were still rolling down my cheeks. I tried to pat them dry as Amber and Ashley snickered. "I can tell you two aren't a bit sorry about your actions." She tut-tut-ed. "Go to the principal's office, and show him this," She told them, "NOW." They scattered, snickering down the hall.

"Miley." She said, turning to me. "Miley, I'm so sorry that I couldn't stop them."

"It's . . . it's not your fault." I tried to gain my composure.

"You know it's only going to get worse, right?" I nodded.

"Miley, I was a young mother. Maybe not as young as you, but I was just out of high school. I know how tough it can be. If you need to talk to me about anything, please don't be afraid too. I'll try to look out for things like this in the future too, but I can't show favoritism. Okay?" I nodded. "Do you want to stay out here for a couple minutes?" Again, I nodded. "Alright, come back when you're feeling better sweetie." She told me, returning to the room. She handed me tissues before closing her door softly. Holding the box, I sank down against the wall. Why did they do that? Why did they have to be like that? Why couldn't they just let me be, damn it?!

**IMPORTANT**

Remember, this story is now forking off. Falling Fast A & B will now have separate chapters. And story lines.

So, which should you read? Good question! I, personally, like both, but then again I'm kind of biased! If you like DRAMA and are okay with a not-so-happy ending (but still fulfilling and tied-off) FALLING FAST A is for you. If you like happy endings and character development, FALLING FAST B is your best option. Both have their dramas, both have Owen, and both change the characters forever. The choice is yours! Warning: If I do write a sequel, it will be based on version B!

**Author's Note**

Sorry for the short chapter & the cursing!

Fillers are fun.


	17. A Red Valentine's

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #16A**

_A Red Valentine's_

"_Miley, I was a young mother. Maybe not as young as you, but I was just out of high school. I know how tough it can be. If you need to talk to me about anything, please don't be afraid too. I'll try to look out for things like this in the future too, but I can't show favoritism. Okay?" I nodded. "Do you want to stay out here for a couple minutes?" Again, I nodded. "Alright, come back when you're better sweetie." She told me, returning to the room. She handed me tissues before closing her door softly. Holding the box, I sank down against the wall. Why did they do that? Why did they have to be like that? Why couldn't they just let me be, damn it?!_

**FALLING FAST A**

"You ready Lil?" I asked.

"Nearly." She answered from the bathroom. Her voice was muffled, she was probably holding a hair tie in her mouth. I laughed and looked at myself in the mirror. It was Valentine's, but I was grounded. Thankfully, dad had been understanding and had let Lily and I invited Owen and Oliver over for dinner tonight. We would be dining on the porch, mom and dad would be in the kitchen so they could watch a marathon on tv. Not how I'd spend my first married Valentines, but it's their choice.

I wasn't sure how fancy we'd be dressing tonight, and I wanted to be comfortable. Finally, I'd settled on what I was styling today. My shirt was pink tie-dye, with a scrunched-up chest, the rest of it fell gracefully halfway to my knees. My pants were white and nearly see-through, they cut off a couple inches below my knees. My only jewelry was a web of twisted wires shaped into a small heart and suspended in a glass bauble. My father had given it to mom on their first Valentine's, and she'd passed it onto me when I'd picked it out of her jewelry as a wide-eyed first grader. I almost never wore it, but today seemed like a special enough occasion. Every time I wore it, I felt like mom was still watching over me. I could remember her kissing it and placing it gingerly over my little head. I'd never taken the kiss off, although it had faded with time. Still, I knew exactly where the imprint had been.

"Okay, now I'm ready." Lily announced. Dramatically, she pushed open our bathroom door and spun around. She was in a tight white tank and an old pink Hannah jacket of mine with ¾ sleeves. I'd convinced her to wear a flowy tan-and-brown skirt she despised. It looked nice. Around her neck was a silver heart locket Oliver had won for her at a fair a few years before. Inside, I knew, was her "Will you be my girlfriend?" note that Oliver had given her. She'd opened the locket and unfolded the note many times at first, but now she hardly opened it. "Shall I escort you down stairs?" she asked, holding out her arm.

"Yes you shall." I placed my arm a top hers and we giggled our ways down stairs.

**FALLING FAST A**

That night we ordered an extra-large cheese pizza with extra sauce. Once our food had arrived, Heather and dad locked us out on the porch with our pizza, coca-cola, and a cool pitcher.

"Ewwww!" I squealed as Owen stuffed an entire piece of cheese pizza into his mouth. "Gross!"

"I can do better than that!" Lily picked up her own piece and shoveled it in.

"Lily!" I screamed in disgust, rubbing my aching back, I'd been sitting down too long!

"I can beat all of you!" Oliver proclaimed. He cut a slab off the little that was left and started to force it in. Halfway through, he started to gag and cough. After a slap on the back from Owen, he placed the remaining triangle on his plate and took a long gulp of Coca-Cola. Wistfully, I fingered my pink lemonade, wishing for the caffeinated beverage. Owen caught my gaze and I smiled at him.

"Well, if my brother's done choking," He said, "how bout we do a little dancing?" Before anyone could respond he stood and grabbed his iPod out of his bag. Taking out a small speaker, he started to play one of our favorite songs from the restaurant. "May I have this dance?" he asked, offering me his hand.

"Yes you may." I answered, placing my hand in his. He led me onto the "dance floor", a small patch of grass before it turned to sand and beach. Sheepishly, Oliver and Lily followed. We all laughed and giggled. Owen swirled me too many times to count, and I was having a blast. How long had it been since we'd danced like this? Too, too long.

Next, a slow song played. Slowly, I leaned into Owen, resting my head on his shoulder and my arms around his neck. He held my back tightly and whispered "I love you" over and over again into my ear. I smiled as his lips tickled my ear.

"Aww, you ruined the moment!" he accused. I laughed and took a step back.

"You're the one making false accusations!" he laughed to and we walked over to the water's edge, dipping our feet in to the cool waves.

"Doesn't this remind you of when we met?" I asked. He nodded, slipping his hand into my back pocket.

"But we're much more of a couple now."

"We are." I agreed, resting my head on his shoulder again. "But I kind of like this."

"You do?" he questioned.

"Yeah, well I'd never ask for this, but it's brought us closer together. Hopefully we can stay that way."

"Don't talk like that." He told me, giving my forehead a kiss. "It will stay like this. Miley and Owen, together forever. No question."

"No question." I agreed, holding out my finger in a pinky swear. As I dropped my hand, it brushed up against my stomach.

"So what're we gonna name this?" he asked, gesturing to the tiny bump.

"We don't even know what it is yet!" I protested. "It's too early to think of names. Except . . ."

"Yes?" he asked.

"Well . . . if it's a girl, I'd really like her middle name to be Susannah."

"As you wish, dear," he told me, "as you wish." Smiling at his agreement, I looked over to see where Lily and Oliver had run off too. They were sitting on the table having a spirited discussion that involved way too many hand motions. Lily caught my eye, and I motioned for her to come over. She nodded and began to walk over. But suddenly, she froze; her face looked shocked, almost betrayed. Immediately she bolted back into the house.

"What's she up to?" Owen asked.

"Who knows?" I asked. "She's Lily." We turned back to the ocean, content. A minute later we heard chairs scuffling and hurried feet, loud, concerned-sounding voices. I turned, and Lily came into view, followed my dad and Heather. I removed Owen's hand and walked over to them. He followed a couple paces behind, worried about staying on dad's good side.

"Miley," he said slowly. "Could you turn around?"

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Just turn around honey." Heather told me. I did as I was told. Dad gasped. "I'll go call." Heather told dad, running inside to the phone.

"What's wrong?" I asked, knowing that something had to be going on. "What's happening?"

"We'll explain on the way." Dad told me. And with that, he suddenly scooped me into his arms, bridal-style. I clung to his neck as he shot orders at Lily and Heather. He placed me lying down in the front two seats of our van. Lily came into the row behind me, a plastic grocery bag in hand. Heather and dad took the driver and passenger's seats, Oliver and Owen were following in their car.

"What's wrong?" I asked as we finally pulled onto the highway.

"Honey, you're . . ." Heather turned to face me, ". . . your pants are bloody." That shut me up fast. Was I losing the baby? Judging by their reactions, this couldn't be normal, could it? Was this happening? Why was this happening? What had caused it? Was it the pizza? The one tiny sip of Coke I'd snagged when Owen wasn't looking? It was caffeine free! But my thoughts stopped cold as my lower back pulsed in pain. This time, I knew what it was. I hadn't been sitting too long. It was a contraction. I was in labor at only three and a half months.

**Author's Note**

Will the baby live? Will the baby die? Only the next chapter(s) contain the answer! Review in the meantime!

My dance team won two gold and an overall FIRST in our division! And this is our first competition of the year! Yay!

Meanwhile in real-time world I just had recital, what a relief!


	18. Short and Not So Sweet

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast**

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #17A**

_Short and Not-So Sweet_

_Was I losing the baby? Judging by their reactions, this couldn't be normal, could it? Was this happening? Why was this happening? What had caused it? Was it the pizza? The one tiny sip of Coke I'd snagged when Owen wasn't looking? It was caffeine free! But my thoughts stopped cold as my lower back pulsed in pain. This time, I knew what it was. I hadn't been sitting too long. It was a contraction. I was in labor at only three and a half months._

**FALLING FAST A**

I must have fallen asleep on the car ride, because I couldn't remember the entire ride to the hospital, and only had blurry memories of a waiting room. In fact, my first vivid memory was of pain.

"Shhh." Owen whispered. Placing his hands on either side of me. I gripped his wrists and tried not to complain. "It's okay." He told me calmly. "You're going to be fine."

"I know . . . I'm . . . going to be . . . fine," I panted, "but . . . will the . . . baby?" Owen looked straight into my eyes. Tears threatened at the corners of his eyes as I stared back, and I knew he was just as scared as I was. Suddenly, he lifted my upper body to his chest in a bear hug. "It's all going to work out." He sobbed. "It just has to!" I gripped him closing, wishing with every second that he was telling the truth.

Behind us, a doctor made an annoyed sound and Owen dropped me gently onto the pillow.

"Hi." The doctor said, extended his arm to shake Owen's, then mine. "I'm Dr. Green."

"Hello doctor." I responded automatically.

"Your name's Emily, right?" he asked. I nodded.

"But everyone just calls me Miley."

"Alright then," he sighed, leaning against the end of my bed. "Miley, this is really hard for me to say but . . . there's a good chance that your baby might die. At this point, it's too early to classify this as preterm labor. Aborting the baby like this is your body's way of not bringing a baby with a genetic mutation into the world. Maybe the baby is short a couple chromosomes, or has a few extra, or maybe it's normal but your body isn't ready to handle the stress. No matter what, this is not your fault, I want to stress that. And maybe I'm wrong, it's happened before. There is a chance that this means nothing, you'll stop bleeding, and in five months you'll give birth to a healthy little baby, I just don't know." My throat began to clog with all the tears I'm holding back. My baby could be dying? Owen slipped my hand into his and squeezed it hard. "I'm going to put you on some meds and monitor all of this so I can know what's going on at all times. We're going to try to stop these contractions, if you want to."

"I want to." I whispered, and Owen nodded in agreement.

"Now Miley, I want you to think about this, could your family really support a baby with down syndrome or some other diseases? This might be for the best, sadly."

"I have money." I told him confidently. "And I want to."

"Okay." He said, confidently. "I'll be back in a moment with the meds." And he left, taking the silence in the room with him. As his lab coat flapped around the frame of my door, I let out a loud sob.

"It's okay, it's okay." Owen whispered, wrapping me in his arms.

"I'm a bad mother!" I cried, gripping him fiercely. He was the only thing stable in this world.

"No, no you're not." He whispered. "You're a great mother, Miley. This isn't your fault, just as much as it's anyone else's. If you're to blame for this, than I am too."

That moment, Heather and Lily walked into the room and Owen let go of me, settling for holding my shaking hand.

"Your dad's just calling Jackson; he'll be in a minute." Heather explained to me. I nodded as big, fat tears started to run down my cheeks. "Shhhh." She whispered, sitting beside me. "It's going to work out. Whatever happens Miley, its God's plan."

"I know." I whispered. "But why does he have to plan so much drama for me?"

**FALLING FAST A**

One of the medications that I was given made me sleepy, and I soon fell asleep. When I woke, my room was dark. Looking at the clock in front of me, I read that it was two in the morning. Slowly, I tried to gather my surroundings. On my right, by the window were dad and Heather. Heather was clacking away on her blackberry, probably trying to give her staff orders and warning them that she wouldn't be in. Beside her, dad was trying to explain what was going on to a relative in Tennessee. He seemed to be very frustrated by their thick accent, which almost made me laugh. Folded between the arms of a small rolling chair was Lily, dozing off with her iPod on firmly. I could hear the traces of Jonas Brother's music through her head phones. Next to me was Jackson. At that moment, I noticed that he was holding my hand, playing with my fingers and rubbing them absent-mindedly. He was leaned forward, facing the same direction as me so that I couldn't see his face. But I could hear his shaky whisper, praying under his breath. It made me realize the cold weight of my cross against my neck.

Outside I could hear Owen bothering some poor nurse about getting me more meds, more medical attention. I took in a deep breath as I felt my lower stomach being to cramp. Suddenly, the contraction hit full force. I cried out in pain, gripping Jackson's hand in mine, using my other hand to clutch my stomach in agony. I tried to take in more and more oxygen as my breaths became heavy and ragged. How had I slept through this unbearable pain? Everyone's eyes snapped onto me as I cried out again. I gritted my teeth together fiercely, and suddenly I felt a rush of pressure and, almost simultaneously, relief. I cried out again and felt something wet and slippery between my feet as, suddenly, my contraction disappeared. Sucking in a deep breath, I pushed the sheets away from my legs, afraid of what I would see. Between my legs, in a puddle of blood and a thicker muscular-looking material was my tiny baby. At first, I thought she was dead. But as I leaned my head close to hers, I heard her give out a soft, pathetic cry. Instinctively, I knew that she would die, but at that moment I didn't care.

By this time, almost everyone was surrounding me. Lily stood at my side, her hand on my back. Dad was beside her and Heather beside him. On my other side, Jackson – always a queasy stomach – was puking into a basin left in the room for me, just in case. Just then Owen dashed into the room, the angered nurse at his side. She let out a soft gasp before gathering one of my thrown-off covers into a little pillow. Carefully, she scooped the tiny baby up into the mass. She was still connected by an umbilical cord, but the nurse lifted her up, into my arms. Owen came to stand where Jackson, who had managed to stumble to the bathroom, had been. He placed one arm behind my back, cupping the other one over mine to hold our daughter too.

"She's not going to make it." The nurse told us sadly, "but you can hold her for now. I need to go get a doctor." No one noticed her leave, and no once cared. Even now, the baby was struggling desperately to breath. Her poor, underdeveloped lungs expanded heavily as she tried to take in more oxygen. I gazed at her helplessly and Owen did the same. Dad leaned forward and kissed her tiny forehead. Lily grazed her hand over the baby's soft cheek, and Heather held her tiny hand. As I watched, she opened her eyes to reveal a bright, lively blue, and closed them again. She began to turn blue until; finally, all the breath left her little body.

**Author's Note**

I know the chapter's super-short and I apologize. It just needed to be said, k? And please, I beg of you, don't kill me!

My stomach's bothering me. hmm.

Please read my "Story Voting" thing and vote! Don't worry, I've already finished writing this fic!


	19. Bad News and Okens

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast **

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #18A**

_Bad News and Okens_

_The baby was struggling desperately to breath. Her poor, underdeveloped lungs expanded heavily as she tried to take in more oxygen. I gazed at her helplessly and Owen did the same. Dad leaned forward and kissed her tiny forehead. Lily grazed her hand over the baby's soft cheek, and Heather held her tiny hand. As I watched, she opened her eyes to reveal a bright, lively blue, and closed them again. She began to turn blue until, finally, all the breath left her little body. _

**FALLING FAST A**

When I woke up I was in a bright hospital room. The only person in the room with me was dad, holding my hand and crying openly. He looked a real mess, and for a minute I wondered why. Why was I even here? What could make him cry so hard? What was wrong? But then reality struck. I'd just lost my baby, and it had died in my arms. I gripped dad's hand at the idea. It was much, much too painful.

"You're awake." He croaked.

"Yeah." I whispered. "I'm awake. What happened?"

"You . . . you lost the baby, Mile. She was a girl, and she only lived for a couple minutes, you got to hold her, remember? She was so tiny, Mile. There was no way she'd survive."

"It's a girl?"

"A little baby girl." He agreed. "My granddaughter."

"My daughter." I whispered in amazement. I was a mother. Sure, my daughter was dead, but I would always and forever be her mother. I would always be a mother. "Can I still see her?"

"I'll ask the nurse to bring her in." dad told me, "You're not allowed to move around much, you've gone through a lot." I nodded as he stood and left the room for a minute. I took it all in. I was a mother, and my baby had died. It seemed to take forever to wrap my mind around that, but even longer for dad and the nurse to return. Finally, though, she did. In her arms was a tiny pink bundle the size of her palm. Gently, she handed me the little swaddled body. It may have been severely underdeveloped, but anyone could recognize that face as human. Her head was huge and she looked to be simply asleep. Carefully, I held the fragile body close to mine and kissed her little forehead.

"I love you." I whispered, stroking a hand down one soft cheek. "I will always miss you." My heart ached with the loss, but I refused to let a single tear fall.

"Do you have a name for her?" the nurse asked kindly.

"No, not yet." I answered. "I'll have to talk to Owen about that." I looked at dad. "Where is Owen? Where's everyone?"

"They're in the waiting room, the doctors only wanted one person in here when you woke, they didn't know what kind of state you'd be in and they didn't want to overwhelm you." I nodded, the idea made sense, and surely I'd have been more panicked if I'd awoken in an over-crowded room.

"Can I see Owen?" I asked. He nodded, disappearing from the doorway and reappearing moments later.

"Hey Miles." Owen whispered, walking over to stand beside me. "How're you holding up?"

"I don't know." I answered, refusing to look him in the eyes. "It hurts that I never really got to meet her. It just sucks."

"I know." He whispered. "But as the doctor said, maybe she would have had some huge deformity and spend her life in a circus. Maybe, just maybe, it's better this way."

"I know." I answered, letting a tear trickle down my cheek. "But it still hurts." I wiped away the tear. "New subject. We need to name her."

"You name her." Owen offered gently. "You carried her."

"We both created her." I countered, letting a soft smile play on my lips.

"You deserve to name her." He insisted, pulling back a little bit of her pink blanket so that he could see her face.

"I'll do her first name, you do her middle name?" I offered and he nodded. "Is Susannah okay?" I asked.

"More than okay." He answered, "It's perfect." He kissed my forehead and I couldn't help but smile. "Do you like the name Rose?"

"I love it." I answered.

"It was my grandmother's name." he explained. His grandmother, Rosaline Oken, had died the October before. The two had been extremely close; she'd even managed to teach him how to knit. Her death had devastated him.

"So repeat her name again." The nurse prompted.

"Susannah Rose Oken." I announced.

"That's a very pretty name." she said, scribbling it onto her clipboard papers. "I'll give you your privacy." She told us, backing out of the room.

"Miley, I know you just woke up," Owen said, "but my parents are here. I know they haven't been very supportive of . . . us . . . but they really want to see you, and they have to go in, like, twenty minutes."

"Sure, they can come in." I told him.

"Thank you." He whispered, running out of the room to fetch them.

Three minutes later all of the Okens appeared in the door way, and slowly huddled around my bed. On my very left was Owen, his hand firmly on my shoulder. Next to him was Oliver, trying to look less awkward then he felt, which nearly made me smile. Beside him was his mother, in her police uniform. She looked official and severe with her straight brown hair pulled back into a tight bun, her uniform ironed to perfection. But her face softened as she gazes upon Susie. On my other side was my dad, taking up a position similar to Owen's. Beside him was Owen and Oliver's dad. His hair was gray and curly. Unlike his wife, he looked like a happy, goofy guy that something had gone horribly wrong to. Riding on his back was Owen's cousin. Her mother had died when she was only a baby, and she'd grown up with her aunt and uncle. Unlike her cousins, she had pin-straight blonde hair and big green eyes. If anything, she looked like Lily's little sister. She was only six, and didn't seem to be able to register the emotion hanging in the room. At the sight of the little baby, however, she sobered, and I knew they'd told her.

"Owen's told us how brave you were." Mr. Oken told me. "I'm sorry we couldn't come sooner."

"It's okay." I whispered. It would have been pointless to have them here.

"Can I?" his wife asked, extending a hand towards my little bundle. I nodded and handed over the baby. "What's her name?" she asked, holding her so that Oliver could also see her.

"Susannah Rose." I answered confidently. "Susannah was my mother's name, and Owen wanted to name her middle name after his grandmother, her great grandmother."

"She'd really appreciate that." Mr. Oken told Owen sadly. Owen nodded solemnly.

"We should really get a picture of this." He added a minute later. From his jacket pocket he pulled out a small digital camera and took a few pictures of his wife and granddaughter, both candid and posed. It would be the only pictures they'd ever have together.

**FALLING FAST A**

After a while the stress of visitors began to wane my patience and dad shooed all but Owen out of the room. My entire family filled the room instead. They let me rest in my little corner while they passed Susie around. Owen was so protective of her – he'd never let her out of his sight. It made me wonder how protective he'd have been if she'd lived. Would she even have lived a normal life between all our complicated lives? Was it better this way? I began to believe it was - which was a truly depressing - when Lily came over to me.

"Hey." She whispered, pulling up a chair beside me.

"Hi." I greeted, pulling at my hospital bracelet in boredom. "What's up?"

"Nothing much, I guess. A couple kids from school called, saying how sorry they are. None of them really know us." I nodded, that sounded about right. "Sarah tried to visit, but they just want relatives for now. I think we'll see her again though. She volunteers here so much."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she lived here." I said, and that made Lily laugh.

"Neither would I." she agreed, calming down. The silence was awkward for a minute.

"Miley, do you know when you'll come back to school?" she asked quietly.

I shook my head. "Not a clue. I think I have to wait until dad's less protective of me. And by that point I think it'd just be better to wait until after Spring Break, or fourth quarter. Dad's even talking about waiting until my sophomore year to go back."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

**Author's Note**

Sad chapter!

I AM REALLY REALLY ANGRY. My new one-shot, which I beg all of you to read, is called "Learning to Forgive". When I wrote it I dedicated the entire thing to two of my favorite authors on this site who, sadly, passed away earlier this year. Or so it appeared. It turns out one of the deaths was faked, which I am now very, very angry about. Oh God I'm so annoyed I could punch someone.


	20. Falling Apart

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast **

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #19A**

_Falling Apart_

"_Miley, do you know when you'll come back to school?" she asked quietly._

_I shook my head. "Not a clue. I think I have to wait until dad's less protective of me. And by that point I think it'd just be better to wait until after Spring Break, or fourth quarter. Dad's even talking about waiting until my sophomore year to go back."_

"_Wow."_

"_Yeah."_

**FALLING FAST A**

Eventually a kind nurse came and took Susie away. That night I barely got any sleep, and I had a huge headache the next day. After hours of channel-surfing, Heather decided that I needed an activity and pulled out my failed knitting project. Gathering her, Lily, and I in a little circle, we began our lesson.

"Push the needle through the back." She told me, taking my needle and doing to job for me. "Then hook it around." She caught a strand and pulled it through the loop. Got it?" I nodded. I hadn't caught a word of what she'd said. I could barely pay attention past the first minute, let alone now, twenty minutes in. Still, I attempted to follow her instructions. The stitch failed, and as I threw the piece down it began to unravel.

"I can't do it." I sighed. "There's no point anymore anyways!" Heather sighed and patiently picked up my abandoned piece. "You need to do something to pass the time before we can leave, Miley. You can't just sit around watching television all day."

"I'm sick, I'm in a hospital, I'm allowed to watch tv all day." I told her, leaning back against my pillows. She sighed, but didn't argue with me. She and Lily continued the lesson as I clicked through channel after channel. Still, nothing was on. Friends was too cheery and Gilmore Girls was too . . . ironic. I couldn't watch Scrubs, House, or Grey's Anatomy because watching a hospital show in a hospital is just too random. The kid channels were too full of bad jokes to catch my attention, but adult news shows were too full of war. There was absolutely nothing on television.

Resolutely, I grabbed the one book I'd brought and tried to read. I'd only gotten to the second page when I became too uncomfortable to continue reading. I pushed my pillow into a comfier shape and tried to read again, but no luck. Next, I leaned onto my left. That seemed to work for about five pages. Then the elbow I was propped against began to tire. Groaning, I shifted onto my stomach. That idea was wiped from my mind in only a second as my stomach screamed out in protest. I flipped back over and crossed my legs Indian-style, propped my book on one knee. Still, no luck. I couldn't get comfortable, no matter what I did.

Eventually, I threw down the book and grabbed my iPod, scrolling through the playlist. Absolutely nothing interested me. I flipped from song to song, unable to find anything good. I was too bored of being bored.

Sighing, I put down the mp3 and tried to fall asleep. When I found a mildly comfortable position, I began to let my mind wander. It wandered into what had happened in the past couple days.

I remembered grabbing Owen's caffeine-free soda and taking a long sip. The image of that big spot of blood filled my mind as I let my fingers play over the skin covering my now-empty uterus. It no longer felt warm to me – in fact, it felt deathly cold. I thought it would shatter like an ice chip when I touched it, just as I'd though it'd shatter like glass before. But glass wasn't cold like ice. Ice was thicker, and cooler. Suddenly, a feeling of loneliness and emptiness swept over me. No one else in this room knew just how I felt. No one cared to ask, either. There were five other people crammed into the tiny room, but I felt completely alone. No one dared to look at me. Their eyes skimmed over my face and body like a child sock-skating on a clean kitchen floor.

I felt a hot tear slither from my right eye. Then one from my left. Within minutes my silent fears had turned into large, noisy sobs. Quickly and quietly, dad wrapped his protective arms around me. As if I were a small child, he pulled me backwards, onto his lap, and held me closely. And like a small child, I gripped his neck tightly and let out big, baby cries.

No one talked; no one said a single thing to comfort me. In stead, everyone but dad tried to ignore me. It was just dad and I, me sobbing and him holding me, protective but not over-bearing.

I leaned into him, feeling the pattern of his sweatshirt give my cheek a check-march pattern. He was warm, unlike the cool, sterile hospital air. I shivered, and he pulled one of my blankets up over me, wrapping my tightly in the blue cotton. As my tears began to slow, he pushed back my hair and kissed my forehead. My eye lids grew heavier and heavier as my grip loosened, and I knew I was really falling asleep for the first time since the birth. As I slipped out of consciousness, the last thing I heard was him whispering, "I love you" in my ear.

**FALLING FAST A**

When I woke up, dad was still holding me. He had fallen asleep himself, and his dead weight was slung over me. No one else was in the room. Looking at the clock, I saw that it was nearly dinner time. They must have been in the cafeteria. Well, that was fine. I didn't feel like being near them either, as a matter of fact. Instead, I decided to wander the halls. So, I untangled myself, grabbed a lone apple sitting on my dinner tray, and set off, dragging my IV in my free hand. I didn't have a clue of where I was, where I was going, or when I would return, but that idea appealed to me. For a while, I pretended that I was an adventurer charting an unknown land. I memorized landmarks as I wandered until I ended up in a brightly colored play room. In the room were five or six children, all in the younger half of their Elementary school years. They were playing with building blocks, coloring books, and foam balls. Most of them, I knew, were patients here. One I even recognized. She was a small African American girl trying to stop two boys fighting over tonka trunks. She was older then she looked, I knew, and a huge Hannah Montanan fan. I'd actually visited her as Hannah months and months ago. She was a cancer patient, and I was glad to see that she was still alive.

"Hi." A small voice beside me said. I looked down to see a little blonde girl that must have been five or six. She wasn't gripping onto an IV, so I knew she wasn't sick. Her arm was broken, I saw. Her bright pink cast was dedicated with Hannah Montana logo stickers and High School Musical cast pictures. "I'm Olivia."

"Hi Olivia," I greeted, kneeling to her level, "I'm Miley."

"Want to play dollies?" she asked, waving at a doll house that I knew had seen better days. But I nodded and knelt beside her in front of the little plastic house. "This is Chloe." She told me, pointing to a Barbie doll that was missing a leg. "She got her leg chopped off 'cause it was infected-ed. And this is her daughter, Georgia." She motioned to a Kelly doll with a black eye. "She got into a fight at school."

"Oh my." I fake-gasped, starring at the maimed dolls; she continued to give names and injuries before announcing that the doll house was a hospital.

"And these," she said proudly, "are the nurses." In her hand were the only two dolls that hadn't been found by destructive little boys yet. They seemed new, and I suspected that they were Olivia's from home. "This is me." she held up a blonde fairy-Barbie with a sparkly dress and ball gown. "And this is you." She told me, handing me a Hannah Montana Barbie. Silently laughing at the irony, I listened to the little girl explain the game.

"And in the end, we make them all better." She looked at me critically, then my IV.

"What are you in for?" she asked wisely.

"um . . . " I tried to think of something other than the truth. "Dehydration." She looked confused, so I explained, "I didn't drink enough water."

"I broke my arm." She told me proudly.

"I saw." I agreed. "I love your stickers."

"Thanks." She said, holding up the cast, "this one's my favorite." She pointed to a picture of Sharpay Evans holding a microphone. "I love her costumes."

"It is a pretty dress." I agreed.

"I want to be as pretty as her when I grow up." She sighed, dreaming of when she was older. I smiled, not sure how to respond. Luckily, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Can we join?" Lily asked, kneeling next to me.

"Who're you?" Olivia asked accusingly.

"Miley's step sister." She answered casually.

"We don't have enough nurses." Olivia replied, "but you can be Stan."

"Who's Stan?" I asked. She hadn't mentioned a Stan before.

"He's the doctor." Olivia told us. From behind the doll house she pulled a Ken doll dressed in Jake Ryan Zombie-slaying gear. "He used to fight zombies, but now he fights sickness."

"Well, I'd be honored to play him." Lily answered, gently taking the doll. She grinned at me. "Mom wants to talk to you." She whispered. I looked up to see my step-mom standing in the doorway. I sighed and stood, walking over to Heather.

"Having fun?" she asked, rubbing a hand up and down my arm.

"It's better than sitting in my room all day." I answered.

"Sure." She agreed. "Look, Miley, I know this is tough on you, but you can't really walk around a bunch. " I nodded.

"I know, but I was just so bored!"

"I know you were." She agreed. "And you are allowed to walk around if you feel up to it; this is just a little farther from your room then I expected you to go. Next time, could you leave a note?"

"Sure." I answered, nodding and beginning to head back to our game. But before I cold leave, she grabbed my arm.

"Miley." She said, "are you okay?"

"Just peachy." I answered sarcastically.

"No, really," she prompted.

"I'll be fine. It's just . . ." I searched for the right words. "It's hard to deal with."

"I can imagine." Heather sighed. "Miley, I lost a baby, about five years ago. Lily didn't – doesn't – know. I don't have the heart to tell her. But I want you to know, I really do have an idea what you're going through."

"Thanks." I whispered, and turned ungratefully back to Olivia and Lily.

**Author's Note**

Wow. More than 2/3 of the way done. Seventy-Six percent. Amazing. Keep reviewing. Olivia for Olivia Aull, a great yearbook partner. Died just under 10 months ago. R.I.P. Look her up on youtube and watch carlina5's vid. Not me, someone I know.


	21. Drama Queens Get Slapped

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast **

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #20A**

_Drama Queens Get Slapped_

"_Miley." She said, "are you okay?"_

"_Just peachy." I answered sarcastically._

"_No, really," she prompted._

"_I'll be fine. It's just . . ." I searched for the right words. "It's hard to deal with."_

"_I can imagine." Heather sighed. "Miley, I lost a baby, about five years ago. Lily didn't – doesn't – know. I don't have the heart to tell her. But I want you to know, I really do have an idea what you're going through."_

"_Thanks." I whispered, and turned ungratefully back to Olivia and Lily._

**FALLING FAST A**

The funeral itself was a simple ordeal; I knew that dad didn't want to create any stress for me. Anyone who'd wanted to see the body had come to the hospital to see me - where pictures and videos had been taken. She got a small, fairly simple casket that we set her in; she wore a tiny preemie onsie that was still too big, and was wrapped in the pink blanket Heather had crocheted for her. The burial was simple too; only the direct family was there.

Later in the day a couple of family members arrived to pay respects. Dad left our front door open to anyone who wanted to come, and we had an interesting group. Aunt Dolly and Mamaw represented my Nashville family, but Jenna, my cousin who lived in northern California, took a trip down for the weekend too. Heather's brother, Danny, and his oldest daughter, D.J., also came. The Oken family was small, so no more came but that was okay with us. With everyone in the house – five Okens, four Truscotts, five Stewarts, Sarah, and the few celebrities that new about my secret identity – it was packed to bursting and spread onto the surrounding beach.

"It'll be okay." Jenna assured me, "it probably wasn't a good idea to have a baby at your age anyways, right?" she asked, trying to cheer me up. I gave her a pathetic smile but didn't respond. Jenna had been hanging out with me for the past hour, and I was getting sick of her babbling. I was, actually, sick of everything. Dad stuffed me into a black top that flowed over my empty midsection, and I'd battled to be allowed to wear my dark gray sweatpants in stead of his suggested ankle-length black skirt. "who's going to comment?" I had argued. Without a word to Jenna I stood and walked towards the buffet that was set out. Everyone allowed me a wide berth and offered their condolences. Slowly, I dipped a cup into a bowl of trail mix to fill it. Grabbing a coca cola, which I was now allowed to drink, I escaped up the stairs. Cautiously, I pushed open the door to my room, and then walked out onto my little piece of deck. To my surprise, Owen was already lying across my favorite patch of roof. He didn't say a thing as I sat on the steps to eat my lunch. He left me in silence and finally I crawled up with him, curling around his muscled body and laying my head on his shoulder.

"I love you." He whispered, pulling me closer.

"Everyone says this is for our own good," I sobbed, tears flying to my face, "but then why does it hurt so much?"

"I don't know." He whispered, a crack in his own voice. Quietly, he kissed my forehead, and I felt like a child.

"Owen?" I whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Don't leave me." I replied, not knowing if I ment in the future or just this second.

"I'd never." I took in a deep, relaxing breath and let the world pass by. We didn't talk again for what felt like at least ten minutes

"Hey Miles," he whispered, rubbing his hand down my back.

"Yeah?"

"Have you lost weight?" I thought about it for a second; the weight from the baby had been taken away, and I'd walked most of what I'd gained from cravings off in the week the hospital had kept me. It hadn't really been hard; I hadn't gained much weight yet.

"You didn't expect me to keep the baby weight, did you?" I asked playfully.

"No, but you seem lighter than, like, back in October. Back when there was no baby." He thought for a second before adding; "not that you were heavy back then. That's why I'm so surprised."

I heaved a great sigh. I knew - as bad as it was - that I'd been under eating. But I wasn't hungry; I wasn't interested in food now. I didn't try to lose weight, it just happened.

"I haven't really been hungry." I answered, shrugging.

"Miley." He said seriously, his voice punishing, "that's dangerous."

"I know."

"No," he said sharply, "obviously you don't know. Miles if you keep losing all this weight I'm going to tell your father because it's a serious problem."

"I don't have an eating disorder Owen!" I defended. I felt betrayed. "I haven't been counting calories, or limiting myself, or even throwing everything back up. I'm just not all that hungry!"

"Still." He said. When he placed his hand on my lower back I realized that I'd sat up. I let him coax me back into a lying position and slowly leaned myself against him. "I love you Miles, and that's why I'd tell your dad . . . because I wouldn't know what to do, and he might. Okay?"

I nodded.

**FALLING FAST A**

After twenty minutes of us just lying there I heard my bedroom door open.

A distinctive giggle.

Bed springs straining.

A slurpy kiss.

"I love you, you donut."

Quietly, I lifted myself off of the roof to look through the glass door to my room. There was Lily, in shorts and a bikini top, blushing like crazy. At first I thought she'd seen me, but then I noticed Oliver. He was shirtless and sucking greedily at her collar bone. She moaned and he started a line of kisses down her body. Suddenly, Lily threw back her head, trying to keep her hair out of her eyes. In the second she leaned back her eyes met mine through the window. For a second she sat, shocked, before blushing a deep crimson and pushing Oliver away. The poor boy hadn't noticed a thing and had been creeping his fingers into the waistband of her soffees to pull them off. When she pushed him away he took the shorts with him to reveal her string bikini bottoms.

"Miley." She whispered, "Miley, this isn't what it looks like!"

"No," I said, my voice sounded hollow even to me, "It's okay, I-I'll just . . . stay up here. Ignore me." Like a punished child, I retreated onto the rooftop where Owen was waiting.

"Was my brother in there?" he asked suspiciously. I nodded.

"With Lily?" I nodded again.

He groaned, getting up, "I've got to go talk to him."

"Owen!"

"Miley," he said, turning back to face me, "do you want what happened to us to happen to them?" I couldn't disagree with that, so I let him leave. A moment later Lily came out on to the roof with me.

"Miley," she said, "I'm so sorry."

"No your not." I spat, "and what should you be sorry for anyways?"

"For being careless." She answered, as if it was the most obvious thing, "for hurting you, because I'm not really sure how but I know that I've hurt your feelings."

"Ya know, everything isn't always about you, Lily."

"No, it's normally not, actually."

"What does that mean?" I asked angrily.

"It means I can sympathize with Jackson now."

"Wha-"

"I mean that your dad will do anything for you, Miles. Think about it. Before it was Hannah, then it was the pregnancy, and now the baby. Everything in this family's about you and you know it."

"Well excuse me, I don't really enjoy the drama, ya know! I didn't ask to get pregnant and I sure as hell didn't want to lose the baby!" She let out a bitter laugh.

"Yeah, right. Just admit that you love the attention."

"I'm not admitting anything because it's not true!"

"Oh you know it is!" she snapped, slapping me clear across the face.

Tears burned in my eyes as a grasped the stinging skin. "owwww."

**Author's Note**

Unplanned drama's the best.

Summer rules! Goin' on vacation – I'll update again tomorrow morning, but I don't know if I'll have internet access after that. In case I do, I'll e-mail myself two chapters to update, ok? But don't expect anything until July 6th or 7th!


	22. Cutting Deap

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast **

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #21A**

_Cutting Deep_

"_Your dad will do anything for you, Miles. Think about it. Before it was Hannah, then it was the pregnancy, and now the baby. Everything in this family's about you and you know it."_

"_Well excuse me, I don't really enjoy the drama, ya know! I didn't ask to get pregnant and I sure as hell didn't want to lose the baby!" She let out a bitter laugh._

"_Yeah, right. Just admit that you love the attention."_

"_I'm not admitting anything because it's not true!"_

"_Oh you know it is!" she snapped, slapping me clear across the face._

_Tears burned in my eyes as a grasped the stinging skin. "owwww."_

**FALLING FAST A**

Lily and I haven't talked since. Not at dinner, not when we went to bed, or when we woke up. I don't know why both of us are letting this happen, but we are. When Jackson drove me to my first day back at school almost a week later, we still weren't talking.

"Hey Miles." Sarah greeted, giving me a huge fake smile. "How're you feeling?"

"Terrible." I answered honestly.

"Well, I'm here for you, if you want to talk or anything, you can come to me."

"Thanks Sarah." I said, almost sarcastically. But she didn't notice my tone and just went skipping off to save a manatee or something. I readjusted my heavy backpack and headed to my locker, where I met Oliver. I knew he was waiting for Lily, who was skating to school and wouldn't arrive for at least another ten minutes.

"Hey." He greeted.

"Hi." I said, kneeling to open my locker.

"So, how's everything?" he asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

"You might not want to be talking to me, Ollie." I warned, putting my heavy Algebra book into my pack.

"Why?" he asked, honestly confused.

"Olls, Lily and Me are fighting."

"That doesn't make you any less my friend." He stated, making me smile.

"That," I said, "is the sweetest thing anyone's said to me in a really long time." Oliver blushed. I looked down at my watch, I was meeting Owen in two minutes, "Ugh, I gotta go."

"I'll escort you!" he offered, the 'sweet' thing had already gotten to his head.

"No, you wait for your girlfriend, I'll be fine." I assured him before dashing off. I was running so fast that I ran into Amber.

"Watch where you're going, slut." she screamed, throwing me back.

"What's your problem?" I shouted back, pushing her.

"My problem is that you think the world revolves around your precious little life."

"Well that's preferable to it revolving around you!" I screamed, my frustration building. "Why the hell don't you just leave me alone?"

"But what fun would that be when I can do this?" she asked, slapped my cheek. Again, I held my stinging face and bit back tears.

"You're just mad someone stole your spotlight!" I screamed back, "but you know what? You can have it! I don't want it! I wish that none of this had ever happened!"

"Yeah, right you little attenti-"

"Yeah. Right. Like I wanted to have a kid at fifteen? But I was going to. I faced it. I got excited, because what the hell was the use of being angry? And then I have a miscarriage! Oh yes, Amber, I planned all of it. That sounds logical."

"I wouldn't put it past you, tone-deaf."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, you're tone deaf. You couldn't anyone in this school if you tried."

"I could better than you think." I scoffed, trying to walk away. Ashley was about to call after me when the warning bell rang. My first instinct was to go to class, but Amber and Ashley were there. So instead I dashed into the closest Girl's room and sat down on a toilet, crying. Nothing helped. Nothing would get me out of this hell. I'd drown before I could resurface, my reputation, my sanity ruined forever. Sniveling, I watched something glint under my feet. Moving my left foot, I stared at the piece of broken metal. Maybe, in this messed-up Malibu world, cutting was therapeutic. Could it be? Well, I had nothing to lose. I sniffed a final time before grabbing the silvery piece. It was light in my hand as I turned over the fleshy under of my left wrist to face the ceiling. Shakily, I lined up the metal. With a gentle pull, I carried the metal across my wrist. First, there was nothing until a single drop of blood was emitted. I watched it drop as more emerged. I grabbed the toilet paper and pressed some against my wound. I pocketed my instrument and waited for the blood to stop flowing. Then I started to feel different. This, this was what I was looking for.

**Author's Note**

Short but meaningful. Four chapters left. Playing violin on your wrist is bad. Don't do it, seriously.


	23. Angst

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast **

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #22A**

_Angst_

"_You heard me, you're tone deaf. You couldn't beat Hannah Montana if you tried."_

"_I could better than you think." I scoffed, trying to walk away. Ashley was about to call after me when the warning bell rang. My first instinct was to go to class, but Amber and Ashley were there. So instead I dashed into the closest Girl's room and sat down on a toilet, crying. Nothing helped. Nothing would get me out of this hell. I'd drown before I could resurface, my reputation, my sanity ruined forever. Sniviling, I watched something glint under my feet. Moving my left foot, I stared at the piece of broken metal. Maybe, in this messed-up Malibu world, cutting was therapeutic. Could it be? Well, I had nothing to lose. I sniffed a final time before grabbing the silvery piece. It was light in my handas I turned over so the fleshy under of my left wrist was facing the ceiling. Shakily, I lined up the metal. With a gentle pull, I carried the metal across my wrist. First, there was nothing until I single drop of blood was emited. I watched it drop as more emerged. I grabbed the toilet paper and pressed some against my wound. I pocketed my instrument and waited for the blood to stop flowing. Then I started to feel different. This, this was what I was looking for._

**FALLING FAST A**

When I got home after school I was the only kid there. Jackson had to work and Lily was practicing for the skateboarding team. With Owen still banned, I was going to be alone after school for the next week at least. Silently, I escaped into my room and changed. My shirt from school was over-sized and uncomfortable, but I felt like wearing comfy sweats. Thoughtlessly, I threw on a blue tank and gray Hollister sweatpants. Scooting my feat into soft flip-flop slippers I shuffled back down stairs.

"How was your day?" Heather asked me. She was just setting a plate of Oreos on the counter, along with two tall glasses of skim milk. I sat on the island stool and placed a paper towel in front of me to ward off crumbs.

"Bad." I answered shortly. I grabbed an Oreo and dunked it into my glass. In stead of eating it, I rested my head on the palm of my left hand and watched the cookie melt away into a soupy mess. Finally, I threw it in my mouth and, after one big bite, swallowed.

"Did you get into a fight?" she asked, pointing to my left hand. Too late, I realized that my cut wrist had been exposed to her directly.

"Ah, yeah." I answered, nodding, "Amber and Ashley."

"So did they throw something at you?" she asked, her face screwed up in confusion.

"Uh, no." I answered.

"Then wh-"

"Look, I've got a lot of stuff to catch up on, I really have to-"

"Did you cut yourself?" I froze, my pack hung over my right shoulder, my left foot on the first step.

"It's just one cut." I mumbled, letting the back pack slide down.

"Go do your homework." She ordered her voice sharp and crisp. Wilting, I followed orders. How much trouble was I in? How long would my grounding be extended? What would they do to me? I shuddered.

**FALLING FAST A**

"Miley!" dad called - his voice angry and rough. Heather must have called him home right when I got upstairs; he'd never been home so early in living memory. I'd barely been home an hour. Shamefully, I trotted downstairs and flopped onto the couch, my arms were crossed and I made sure to cover my cut.

"Show my your wrist." He ordered, holding his palm open. I dropped my right wrist in to his hand.

"The other one." Heather growled. With a sigh, I revealed the injury.

Dad's voice was weak when he spoke again, "why?"

I was silent for a minute before answering. "You know why." He dropped his head.

"If you were so hurt, why didn't you tell us?"

"How could I? How would I say, 'having my child die in my arms depressed me'? That doesn't come up in normal conversation! Besides, wasn't it obvious? Who the hell wouldn't be upset by that?" It was a mark of the severity of the situation that dad didn't even flinch at my language.

"But I didn't know you were depressed."

"I'm not!"

"Miley, you cut yourself, you haven't been acting like yourself, and you're getting into fights with your sister! I'm no expert, but I'm gonna bet money you're clinically depressed."

"So what?!"

"So what?" he asked incredulously, "Miley, if you're depressed than I'm going to get you help. I don't want this to ruin your life."

"Too late! It's already ruined!" I cried, running up to my room. Shoving open the door I flew onto my bed and buried my face in my pillows. Reaching out, I grabbed Beary Bear and held him tight to my chest. A trickle of tears turned to sobs as I cried. It seemed to take forever for dad to finally come into my room. Gently, he laid a hand on my exposed shoulder and started to rub my arm patiently.

"It's going to be okay." He whispered. "Everything's going to work out, you'll see."

"How can it?" I challenged.

"Because life has to go on, Miley, it's a fact."

"That doesn't mean it's all going to be okay." He didn't answer that, because I knew he was silently agreeing with me.

"I'll bring you up dinner." He suggested, "We're ordering in, what do you want?"

"Chinese?" I asked tentatively.

"The usual?" he asked. I nodded and he picked up the phone in my room and placed an order just for my food; everyone else would be having a home-made meal by Heather. "Do you want coke?" he asked.

"Please." I sniffed, finally able to sit up.

"Okay." He agreed, "I'll go get it."

**FALLING FAST A**

When the food arrived I ate alone. Dad left me alone to think until dinner was finished. Then, after taking my leftovers down to the trash, he sat on the edge of my bed and passed me a mug of his loco hot coco.

"Heather and I have been talking," he announced, "and we're going to give you an option. You have to go to therapy Miley, but you can either go a couple times a week to someone nearby or to a treatment center. We'd send you straight to the center, except that the core problem of this is that you had family taken away, and we don't want to hurt you like that again. If you take the out-patient option, I'm going to home school you."

"What about the tour?" I asked before taking a sip. He looked at me critically.

"You weren't going to tour again until next September anyways. If you've made great improvements by . . . June, which I expect is enough time, then we can discuss it." I nodded, staring at my little marshmallows. "But Miley, your sanity, your safety, your happiness, they all come before Hannah."

"Can I take a tour of the center before I decide?" I asked.

"Sure." He agreed, "here's the brochure," he handed me a colorful pamphlet, "and I'll set up a tour for tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded, reading the front page. It was called "Raindrop Smiles". Oh God.

"If you want to talk about any of this, don't be afraid to come to me." he offered. I hugged him, and he left, letting me start in on reading the brochure.

Why did I have to go to therapy at all?

**Author's Note**

I'm feeling angst-y.


	24. Lonely

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast **

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #23A**

_Lonely_

"_What about the tour?" I asked before taking a sip. He looked at me critically._

"_You weren't going to tour again until next September anyways. If you've made great improvements by . . . June, which I expect is enough time, then we can discuss it." I nodded, staring at my little marshmallows._

"_Can I take a tour of the center before I decide?" I asked._

"_Sure." He agreed, "here's the brochure," he handed me a colorful pamphlet, "and I'll set up a tour for tomorrow, okay?"_

_I nodded, reading the front page. It was called "Raindrop Smiles". Oh God._

"_If you want to talk about any of this, don't be afraid to come to me." he offered. I hugged him, and he left, letting me start in on reading the brochure._

_Why did I have to go to therapy at all? _

**FALLING FAST A**

"I'll miss you, Miles." Dad cried, encompassing me in one of his famous bear hugs.

"It's just a week, daddy." I assured him, but I melted into his arms all the same.

"You be good. Do what the doctors tell you to, okay?" he asked, as if I were a little child. I nodded. "One week, then." He promised before walking out of the main office door. In front of me one of the secretaries grinned. She may have been trying to be kind, but it looked painful.

"Miley?" asked a high-pitch voice. I turned to see a petite blonde woman standing behind me with a clipboard in hand. "I'm here to give you a tour, the rules, that kind of thing." I nodded and followed her out into the main lobby. The center was cheery – there were a lot of bright colors and patterns, but no dorky designs of smiling suns and rainbows that I had expected. No, it was a nice place. Not too chic or presumptuous. It certainly wasn't celebrity-status but it was nice. The style was only a few years old, and everything looked well-kept.

"So, this is the lobby." She said, "You won't see this again until you leave." She gestured around the room. It had two couches and doors leading to the outside world. Like any doctor's office there were a couple toddler-geared toys and bad, out-dated magazines. "And over here are the classrooms." All this had been covered in my previous tour, but I just nodded as she opened the see-through door. "Almost all the doors and walls here are at least partly see-through, for your own safety." She added as I stepped through. The classroom walls cut off at the half-way mark for a clear window into each room. The doors held a long window framed in wood painted a brilliant white. Most of the windows were covered with window-safe graffiti naming the type of classes, the teacher, and a couple of doodles. The hallway was small with only one room on either side. It led into a circular opening that diverged into thee more hallways of equal size. Above the entrance to each hall was a double-sided sign telling you which type of class was down each corridor. Right now I stood in the science hall. My tour guide let me look through the windows to one of the rooms for a moment. There were two rows of four lab desks facing a large teacher's desk. Each of the walls had clear cabinets and counters with well-kept sinks. The class had room for sixteen people, but there were only eight students inside.

"Why don't I take you to meet your teachers?" The guide offered. I nodded, glancing aat her name badge. Kelly Green. Weird.

She led me into the room I'd been watching, up to the teacher. She looked to be about fifty. Her gray hair was cut in a strict bob, but her face lit with a near-genuine smile when she saw me.

"Is this my new student?" she asked.

"Miley." I offered, shaking her hand.

"Welcome to Raindrop Smiles." She said. "What grade will you be in?"

"Ninth." I answered.

"So I'll be seeing you bright and early." She said. I guessed that she was right – I hadn't seen my own schedule yet. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"I guess." I answered as Kelly led me out the door.

"Your next class will be English." She said, leading me into the exact opposite hallway. This room looked like it was ment to house third graders. The desk made an awkward circle, with the teacher's at the "head". On the lower half of the walls were bookshelves organized first by category, then by author, and finally, by series. Some of the books were middle-school level and others were books I'd heard of but never bothered to read. Again, the classroom fit about sixteen kids, but this class wasn't in session.

"Hello?" the teacher asked, looking up from her work. She was a younger teacher, maybe in her thirties. "You must be Emily."

"It's Miley." I corrected, shaking her hand.

"Miley then." She corrected. "9th grade right? I hope you've read Romeo and Juliet!"

"Last year." I told her, nodding.

"Looks like you're ahead of us." She said, "Maybe you can put my star pupil in her place." I blushed.

"Nice meeting you." I said, leaving the room.

"She's a good teacher," Kelly told me, "but a little overenthusiastic." She looked at her clipboard again. "Next you'll have world history, Mr. Martin." She turned into the left-handed hallway and I met my history teacher, than my algebra one.

"Now, through these doors," she said, pushing open a set of double doors at the end of the English hall, "are the meetings and counselors." After walking through a short hall she led me into an area with the exact same design as the classrooms, but with full walls. "These are the meetings." She said, gesturing around, "yours will be over there." She pointed to a blue-and-green striped door, "and the individual meetings are upstairs, I'll show you."

We retraced our steps to where the meetings and English rooms met, and up a set of stairs I hadn't noticed before.

"You're counselors over here." She said, leading me to yet another cheery doorframe. "The rest of the upstairs is rooms and stuff. Through here," she crossed into an area that mimicked the structure of the meetings, counselors, and classrooms areas. Here the hallways held four smaller rooms each. "This will be your room." The made a sharp turn and led me into a simple bedroom. The two windowless walls that faced each other were identical, but one had personality, and the other held my suitcase. The bed was a simple twin one with cream-colored sheets. The head of my bed connected to the back of a desk, facing away from the wall directly across from the door. The window took up almost the entire wall, and there was a couch right in front of it. "It doesn't look like much, but once you add some personality it could be really nice." I nodded and followed her out again. How long would this tour last? I was getting tired of being nice.

"Now, over here's the lounge." This area was set up just as the others were, with each square of wall holding a different lounge. One was set up as a movie-theater with a big-screen television. The second was obviously a library; it had shelves upon shelves of "teen" books and a couple tables. A third room held computers, and the fourth was a small arcade. The center circle was simply a lounge with a couple of chairs and couches centering around one focal point. "This is my favorite place." Go figure. "Under this is the cafeteria, and then that's everything. There are maps in every room, as well as the two in your packet. I've taken the liberty of color-coding your classes and stuff."

"Thanks." I muttered as she paced me the manila folder holding all the information I'd need.

"Your welcome." She said brightly. "I'll meet you in your room in a minute; I just need to use the bathroom first. Can you find it on your own?" I nodded; it wasn't that hard to read a map. "Good, I'll meet you there." And she was off. Slowly, I meandered back into my room. Trying to make as much noise as possible, I landed firmly on the bed, bouncing my belongings off of it. For the first time in such a long time, I'd gotten what I'd wanted. I was alone. And I hated it.

**Author's Note**

Sorry if I described the place wrong. (Although I don't know how I could've as it's fictional . . . )

To show you how old stuff is that I post, I wrote this WAY before Camp Rock and I'm editing it now, the night after seeing it. But I'm guessing you're reading this in July or August. Freaky, right?


	25. It's Okay To Cry

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast **

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #24A**

_It's Okay to Cry_

"_I'll meet you in your room in a minute; I just need to use the bathroom first. Can you find it on your own?" I nodded; it wasn't that hard to read a map. "Good, I'll meet you there." And she was off. Slowly, I meandered back into my room. Trying to make as much noise as possible, I landed firmly on the bed, bouncing my belongings off of it. For the first time in such a long time, I'd gotten what I'd wanted. I was alone. And I hated it._

**FALLING FAST**

"Miley?" The counselor asked. I looked up. She beckoned me into the room and I followed. She was younger than I thought she would be - a youthful blonde no older than twenty eight with bright, startling green eyes. She dressed smartly, but casual, wearing a simple purple button-up shirt with the first four buttons open to reveal a cream tank top. Her skirt was a matching color, with a playful flower patern up one side. Slung across the back of what was obviously her chair was a light brown cloth jacket, the kind that looks like a more stylish version of what a detective might wear. On top of this, handing from the corner of the chair's back, was a matching hat, the kind you see young, poor boys wearing in old-timey movies. Around the band was a thick cream ribbon, and centered in that a thin purple one.

"So" she said, settling in her chair. She gestured for me to sit on the couch, which was made of a denim material and was covered in latch-hook pillows with images of teddies, ribbons, and smiles. I sat. "Why don't I go over what your dad's told me ahead of time, and you can fill in the gaps from there." She glanced down at my chart. "You're definitely more interesting than my average patient." She looked up blushing, "please don't tell them I said that!" she added quickly. I nodded, staring at the wallpaper behind her and trying to memorize the pattern of bright stripes.

"Your mother died three years ago, is that correct?" I nodded. "Of cancer?" another nod. "Do you want to talk about that?" I shook my head, and knew immediately that that was a lie. It's what I wanted all along; to be able to talk about mom. But I didn't want to talk to her about mom. I wanted to talk to dad, to Jackson, to Lily, and to Heather. - to my family, not to some stranger with a degree.

"Okay then," she sighed, "It says here that you're Hannah Montana – can you explain?"

"I led a double life." I answered, keeping my voice at a monotone, although I was secretly outraged at dad for telling her. "The blonde hair is a wig; the clothes stay in a special closet and I make sure my elective list doesn't include chorus so that no one gets suspicious."

"what would you say if I told you that I don't believe you?" she asked.

"I'd say that that's pretty hypocritical. Why would I lie to you? Everything I say is confidential, isn't it? And talking, telling the truth, is all for my benefit, right? Why would I lie?" Still, I reached into my bag and pulled out the perfectly straightened blonde locks. Quickly, I tucked my hair, which I'd left "conveniently" in a low pony that would be covered by the blond, and placed the wig on. "I'm Hannah Montana." I stated plainly. She hid her astonishment well, which I secretly commended her for as I placed the wig back into my bag.

"Okay then." She muttered. "And your dad recently remarried?"

"Last September." I filled in. "My best friend's mom."

"Is that how you two met?"

"It's how they met." I clarified. "But I don't really want to talk about it. It doesn't matter."

"Sure it doesn't." she replied, but not angrily, like I expected. Just like she'd heard the phrase one too many times. "So you lost a baby?" Lost a baby. But she was never lost, never. She was right there, in me the entire time. I knew she was; what else would have caused my frequent trips to the restroom, both for puking and for a shrinking bladder. What else would have allowed me to eat any disgusting food combination I could concoct? Only a baby. A baby I never lost. Just one that died. Still, I nodded like a good girl. "That must have been devastating." I shrugged. "Is that why you began cutting?" I bit my lip.

"Part of it." I answered, trying to be cryptic.

"What were the other parts?" she asked, but I chose not to respond. We sat there in a silence I expected her to break any second – but she didn't. The room was quiet and I fixed my gaze on the digital clock on her desk. One minute. Two minutes. Five. Ten. Twenty. With five minutes left to our meeting, she opened her mouth again. "Miley, I'm here to help you." She said, as if I didn't already know. "But you can sit in silence at home. You need to tell me. I don't expect you to know exactly what caused what emotion and why, I just want to know what happened, so I can help you recover from whatever it was. I want to understand."

And just like that, I felt one slithery tear slide down my cheek, an act of betrayal. "It's just so painful." I whispered as the tears started faster and faster. "There's just so much . . . stuff. One thing after another. And remembering it . . . it hurts. A lot. She nodded solemnly.

"I know it can hurt." She agreed, "but it hurts more to keep it inside."

"How can you know?"

**Author's Note**

Short filler. Yay. Filler at the end of a story . . . irony?!

Yay life!


	26. Healing

Forbidden Love 3

**Falling Fast **

**Disclaimer**

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

**Chapter #25A**

_Healing_

"_Miley, I'm here to help you." She said, as if I didn't already know. "But you can sit in silence at home. You need to tell me. I don't expect you to know exactly what caused what emotion and why, I just want to know what happened, so I can help you recover from whatever it was. I want to understand."_

_And just like that, I felt one slithery tear slide down my cheek, an act of betrayal. "It's just so painful." I whispered as the tears started faster and faster. "There's just so much . . . stuff. One thing after another. And remembering it . . . it hurts. A lot. She nodded solemnly._

"_I know it can hurt." She agreed, "but it hurts more to keep it inside."_

"_How can you know?"_

**FALLING FAST**

It was a month before I could truly talk about the . . . incident . . . and I still don't like too, but I've made "great progress" as she says. Today, the tenth of June, I am finally being released for an "out-patient" program. I have to come back for meetings that will, eventually, grow farther and farther apart. Right now I have to come in for an hour every Tuesday and Thursday while, at home, I meet with a lyricist who will help me turn my pain into songs that won't blow everything. The CD is planned to be released in August, and the tour should begin halfway through September. I'm not sure if I'll ever return to public school, but I don't think so. It's just too much drama and I've learned that I work much better with one-on-one anyways. At "Rain" I started studying sophomore work almost immediately, and by New Year's I should be beginning my junior year! It's a lot to take in, and my changes don't stop at emotions. Two weeks ago I chopped my locks to just above my shoulders. After too-often crying jags my daily makeup routine has diminished to lip gloss and cover-up. My style has also changed; before it was preppy, now it's a little less bright, a little looser too. I've fallen in love with the maternity-style tops that seem to be in fashion, which may be my own sort of therapy; wearing the clothes I'd never gotten a chance to.

Right now I'm sitting in my counselor's room – on her desk to be specific, swinging my legs nervously as she asks questions about who's coming to pick me up. This is part of leaving the center; I have to have a half-hour therapy session that encompasses my entire family before going to my room, grabbing my bags and taking off.

"Who's coming, again?" she asked, clicking her pen nervously.

"My dad, Heather, Jackson, Lilly, Oliver, Owen, and Mrs. Oken." I answered quickly. My family; dad, Heather, Lilly, and Jackson, were all required visitors. As Oliver's my best friend and Owen the father of my dead child, I felt they were important to include. Their mother had wanted to come, both of their parents had volunteered but someone needed to stay home with their cousin, who would make a mess or something else horrific.

"Right." She said, scribbling a note on her clipboard. She glanced at her watch, "they should be here in three minutes." She offered, returning to the pen-clicking. I sighed, looking around the room. I had come to be at home here. When the couch had grown too uncomfortable I'd sat on the floor, the desk, her chair, and gone on walks in the little garden. The only reason I was allowed to sit on the desk now was that there was no other room. Ms. Green was also on the desk. The large couch, including people sitting on the arms, would fit five. Her chair and the one extra we'd borrowed from another counselor made room for Ollie and his mother to sit too. Still, we'd be claustrophobic in the tiny room. Just as she was about to talk again, the doorknob clicked. This was it, the first time I'd seen them in a good four months. The door opened, carrying in their chatter, and everyone tumbled in. I jumped off of the desk and into my father's famous bear hug. I melted.

"I missed you Miles." He told me.

"I missed you too." My voice cracked. No, I would not cry! I would not! I move on to hug Heather, rubbing a tear from my face.

"It's so good to see you." She told me. One tear.

"Miley!" Lilly squealed. I ran into her and we hugged. Another tear. Then another.

"Lilly!" I answered back, squeezing her tight.

"Miles." Owen whispered, embracing me. His protective arms made me feel so secure, like it was impossible for anything to hurt me. And yet, two more tears fell.

"Hey." Jackson greeted, encompassing me for a quick hug. "I missed you, sis."

"I missed you too."

Oliver and his mother hugged me together to make it less awkward. Finally, we all settled into seats. Oliver sat on one arm of the chair, Lilly in the seat beside him. Owen sat next to her, and his mother beside him. Dad and Heather took the two chairs, holding hands. And, abandoning my earlier post, I sat on both Lilly and Owens laps. It just felt so good to be close to them. It felt so good to feel loved; a feeling I had barely felt in four long, soul-searchingly desperate months.

**Author's Note**

I AM DONE!

YESSSSSSSSSSS!


End file.
